Received 


1872 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA, 


GIFT  OF 


WILLIAM  OILMAN  THOMPSON. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN; 


OB, 


NOTES  OF  AN  UNFINISHED  TOUR 


IN  1847. 


BY  S.  T.  WALL  IS. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER   &  BROTHERS,   PUBLISHERS, 

82    CLIFF    STREET. 

1849. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  forty -nine,  by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 


TO 


THE  CHEV.  DON  JOSE  ANTONIO  PIZARRO, 

H.  C.  M.  VICE-CONSUL  IN  BALTIMORE, 


THIS  LITTLE  WORK 


Ks  3£U»j)ectfuIl2  antr  ^ffectfonatelp 


PREFACE. 


THE  author  would  not  do  himself,  or  the  country 
which  he  has  attempted  to  describe  in  part,  the 
injustice  of  publishing  this  volume,  without  desiring 
its  humble  pretensions  to  be  distinctly  understood. 
The  subject  was  not  unfamiliar  to  him,  before  his 
visit  to  Spain ;  and  his  opportunities  for  observation 
and  information,  while  there,  were,  perhaps,  better 
than  those  which  strangers  commonly  enjoy.  The 
period  and  limits  of  his  intended  tour  were,  however, 
so  materially  abridged,  that,  if  the  results  of  his  ob- 
servation had  been  unfavorable  to  the  country,  he 
would  have  deemed  it  hardly  fair  to  give  them  cur- 
rency. The  contrary  being  the  case,  he  is  persuaded 
that  his  conclusions  are,  on  that  account,  the  more 
likely  to  be  just,  so  far  as  they  go  ;  and  he  is  willing 
to  incur  the  risk  of  their  being  deemed  superficial  and 
imperfect,  under  the  conviction  that  they  can  do  no 
harm,  and  may,  perhaps,  throw  light  upon  a  picture, 
which  has  been  often,  he  believes,  unduly  darkened 
by  prejudice  and  misinformation. 


PREFACE. 


For  the  frequent  appearance  of  the  personal  pro- 
noun in  the  narrative,  the  author  has  no  apology  but 
the  impossibility  of  avoiding  it  without  assuming  a 
graver  tone  than  accorded  with  his  plan.  Should  a 
lack  of  that  "  stirring  incident"  be  noted,  which  is 
looked  for  in  such  books,  he  begs  it  may  be  attributed 
to  his  ill  fortune,  in  having  met  with  nothing  of  the 
sort,  except  what  he  describes-  A  few  banditti  would 
have  made  a  livelier  story,  and  could  have  been  read- 
ily improvised  ;  but  it  is  a  melancholy  fact  that  there 
is,  now,  small  risk  of  life  or  limb  in  Spain,  compara- 
tively speaking ;  and  the  author  did  not  feel  that  he 
would  be  justified,  under  such  circumstances,  in  con- 
firming the  present  popular  impression,  that  life  in 
the  Peninsula  is  still  a  mixture  of  the  adventures  of 
Gil  Bias  and  the  exploits  of  Don  Quixote. 

BALTIMORE,  October,  1849. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Departure  from  Marseilles — La  Ciotat — Fellow-travelers — En- 
glish Tourists — Arrival  at  Barcelona,  and  Tribulations  at  the 
Custom-house — The  Rambla.  and  the  People  on  Promenade — 
Theophile  Gautier — Marseilles  and  Barcelona  contrasted — 
Public  Buildings — The  Cathedral — Christopher  Columbus  ...  13 

CHAPTER  II. 

Easter  Eggs — La  Mona — High  Mass  on  Easter  Sunday — A 
ride  to  Gracia — Montjuich — Notre  Dame  de  la  Garde — The 
Plaza  de  Toros,  and  Yankee  Company — Opening  of  the  Great 
Opera  House — Social  Habits  of  the  Barcelonese — Musical 
Tastes 26 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  Catalans — English  Philanthropy  and  the  Cotton-question — 
Smuggling  and  Prohibitive  Laws — Protective  Policy  and  Free- 
Trade—Don,  Javier  de  Burgos 36 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Education  in  Catalonia — The  Press — The  Gaye  Science — De- 
parture for  Valencia — The  Coast — Spanish  Travelers  and 
Politics — The  Tartana — Valencia — The  Vega — The  Market- 
place— Costume  and  Cleanliness  of  the  People — Table-lux- 
uries of  Europe  and  the  Western  Continent — M.  Dumas — 
Public  Buildings— The  Ctf.  and  the  Church-bells 45 

CHAPTER  V. 

Pictures — The  Penitentiary— The  Women  of  Valencia — Alicante 
— Railway  Iron — The  Plaza — Mules — The  Post-boy — Man- 


viii  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Cartagena — The  Arsenal  and  Harbor — Gipsies  —  Appearance 
and  Habits  of  the  People — Almeria — Ballad  of  Count  Arnaldos 
— Spanish  Boatmen — Heat  of  the  Weather — Cathedral — Dis- 
mantled Convent — Beggars — Morals  of  Almeria — The  Bride 
and  the  Captain  of  Carbineers — The  Mountains  of  Granada — 
Sunset — Mediterranean  Captains 67 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Malaga — Its  Appearance  from  the  Water — The  Citadels — The 
Alameda — Defacing  Public  Monuments — Westminster  Abbey 
— Greenough's  Washington — The  Cathedral  of  Rouen  and  the 
Swiss — Coaches — Streets — Moonlight  Walks  and  Views — the 
Torres 79 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Commerce  of  Malaga — Manufactures — Heredia's  Works — Iron 
Foundry — Spanish  Iron  and  Coal — Clay  Figures — The  Fonda 
de  la  Alameda — American  and  European  Hotels — Travelers 
to  Granada — Fellow-lodgers — The  Irish  Parson — English  and 
Continental  Manners — Spanish  Cookery — Rides  about  the  Hills 
— The  Retire— Villa  of  the  Prussian  Consul — Calesas  and 
Bombes — Torre  Molino 86 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Cathedral — Ford  and  Widdrington — Society  in  Malaga — The 
Malaguenas — Slanders  of  Tourists — Female  Travelers — Span- 
ish Hospitality — Letters  of  Introduction — Dinners — Courtship 
and  Marriage — Medical  Men — Funeral  Ceremonies  and  Cus- 
toms of  Mourning 104 

CHAPTER  X. 

Departure  for  Cadiz — A  Summer  Sea — Rock  and  Straits  of 
Gibraltar  by  Moonlight — Cadiz — The  Casino — English  Papers 
and  the  Mexican  War — Women — Public  Walks — Buildings — 
Flower-market — Fondness  for  Flowers — Spanish  rural  Tastes 
— Fortifications — Ocean- view  and  Sunset 121 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Journey  to  Xerez— Port  St.  Mary's — The  Calesa— Don  Fran- 


CONTENTS. 


cisco  and  his  Chickens — Sherry  Wines  and  Goat-skins — The 
Cartuja — Xerez — The  Boarding-house — Dona  Maria  de  Leon 
— Her  Table  and  Company 133 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Xerez — Population — The  Bodegas — Wines — Manzanilla — The 
Preparation  of  Wines — American  and  English  Markets — Prices 
— Vineyards — Manners  of  the  People — Churches — The  Storks 
of  San  Miguel — May-day — Return  to  Cadiz — Louis  Philippe's 
Birth-day 143 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Fair  at  Puerto  Real — The  Star-spangled  Banner — The  Balon 
— Theatrical  Performances — Spanish  Dancing-girls 153 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Decay  of  Cadiz — Manufactures  and  Trade — Free-trade  News- 
paper— Agriculture — Grain  and  Flour — Journey  to  Seville — 
The  Guadalquivir — Herdsmen  and  their  Mares — Approach 
to  Seville — Gardens  and  Groves — Fonda  de  la  Reyna — Don 
Jose  and  the  Widow — The  Maiden's  Balcony 160 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Seville — Domestic  Architecture — Moorish  Relics — House  of  Pi- 
late— The  Alcazar  and  its  Gardens — English  Critics  and  White- 
wash— Sir  John  Downie — Holy  rood  and  Durham  Cathedral — 
The  Spanish  Kings — Peter  the  Cruel 166 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Improvements  at  Seville — Literature  and  the  Press — The  Bible — 
Mr.  Borrow  and  the  Causes  of  his  Failure — Newspapers — 
American  News — General  Taylor  in  Seville — Scarcity  of 
Bread — Bread  Riots — The  Cigar-girls — Andalusian  Character 
illustrated — Dancing — The  Ole — The  Bell-ringer's  Daughter.  176 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Italica — The  Coach — Triana — San  Isidoro  del  Campo — Guzman 
el  Bueno — Hernan  Cortes — The  Halls  of  the  Montezumas — 
Peasants — The  Ruins — The  Amphitheater — The  Wine-drink- 
ers and  bur  Adventure  on  the  Road 190 

A* 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Marshal  Soult,  and  Murillo's  Works — Picking  and  Stealing— 
Murillo's  Style  and  Genius — The  Ideal  and  the  Natural — 
Paintings  of  the  Deity — St.  Francis  and  the  Crucifix 196 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Notices  of  Murillo's  principal  Works — The  Museum — Seville 
School — Zurbaran — Murillo's  Pictures  for  the  Capuchin  Con- 
vent— Story  of  his  Residence  there — The  Virgin  of  the  Nap- 
kin, &c. — Pictures  at  La  Caridad — The  San  Juan  de  Dios — 
Pictures  at  the  Cathedral — The  Guardian  Angel 205 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Ferdinand  Columbus — His  Tomb — And  Works — The  Columbian 
Library — Relics  of  Ferdinand — Books  belonging  to  Christopher 
Columbus — His  Book  of  Prophecies — The  Sword  of  Garci 
Perez — The  Lonja — Seville  Merchants  of  old — The  Archives 
of  the  Indies — Navarrete 215 

CHAPTER  XXI 

The  Tobacco-factory — Pope  TJrban's  Bull  against  Tobacco— 
Pasquin's  Reply — Public  Walks — Delicias — Spanish  Horse- 
men— Farriers — Necessity  of  Public  Walks  in  the  United 
States 225 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Propensity  of  Travelers  to  climb  high  Places — The  Giralda — 
The  Bell-ringer,  his  Daughter,  and  the  Hawks — The  Andaluz 
and  the  English — The  Cathedral — Its  Magnificence  and  Beauty 
— The  Royal  Chapel — The  Virjen  de  la  Antigua — High  Mass 
and  Music — The  Galleries — The  Battle-pieces  and  the  Hawks  236 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Journey  to  Cordova — Carmona — The  Road  and  Travelers — 
Primitive  Agriculture — Ecija — The  Alforjas — Dawn  upon  Cor- 
dova— The  Mosque — Moorish  Relics — St.  Raphael,  and  what 
he  swore — The  Christian  Captive  and  his  Cross — Procession 
and  Silver  Ornaments — Gen.  Dupont — Appearance  and  Decay 
of  Cordova — Return  to  Seville — The  Colonies  and  Olavide — 
The  Infanta  and  the  Poet — Spanish  Diligences 247 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Andalusian  Jockeys — Start  for  Honda  Fair — Our  Horses,  Guide, 
and  Equipments — Andalusian  Costume — Appearance  of  the 
Country — Utrera — Bull-fighters — The  Race  and  the  Carbonero 
— Coronil — The  Venta  and  the  Fleas — Puerto  Serrano  and  the 
Mountains — Our  Cavalcade — Mountain  Crosses — The  Picador 
and  his  Arab — Almodonares — Zahara — V.enta  Nueva — Morn- 
ing Ride  to  Ronda  — The  Nightingales  266 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Ronda- — The  Tajo  and  Valley — Moorish  Relics — The  Fair — 
Cordovese  Horses 284 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

The  Bull-Fights — The  Amphitheater,  Spectators,  Order  of  Cere- 
monial and  Manner  of  the  Fights — Moral  of  Bull-fighting — 
Fondness  of  Strangers  for  it 290 

CHAPTER  XXVII 

Journey  to  Malaga — Carratraca — The  Sulphur  Springs — The 
Flowers  and  Grain — Valencian  Reapers — Reflections  on  An- 
dalusian Agriculture — Its  Defects  and  their  Historical  Causes — 
Rural  Labor  as  a  Source  of  Patriotism  and  Prosperity — Journey 
to  Granada — Loja — Arrival  at  Granada — Feast  of  Corpus 
Christi — The  Swiss  Pastry-cook — Illness — The  Barber-surgeon 
and  the  Doctor — Medicine  and  Dietetics — My  Lodging — The 
Noises  of  Granada — Rita  and  the  Russian  Count — Kindness  of 
the  People — The  Professor  and  la  Presse 303 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

The  Xenil  and  the  Darro — The  Alameda — The  Alhambra  Gar- 
dens— The  Cuarto  Real — Monastic  Taste — Gonsalvo  de  Cor- 
dova and  the  Cartuja — Precious  Marbles — Mariana  de  Pineda 
— San  Jeronimo  and  the  Tomb  of  the  Great  Captain 314 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  Cathedral  of  Granada — The  Royal  Chapel — Pulgar  and  the 
Ave  Maria — The  Royal  Tombs — Ferdinand  and  Isabella — An- 
tique Bas-reliefs — The  Sacristy — Ferdinand's  Crown  and  Scep- 
ter— Surrender  of  Granada — Irving  and  Prescott — The  Histor- 
ical Bas-relief— Visit  to  the  Hermitage  of  San  Sebastian — The 


xii  CONTENTS. 


Procession  of  Corpus  Christ! — The  Lawsuit  for  Precedence — 
Spanish  Soldiery — Society  and  Cultivation  in  Granada 322 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Mr.  Irving  and  the  Alhambra — Mateo  Ximenez — The  Gate  and 
Square  of  Vivarrambla — Casa  del  Carbon — The  Alhambra — 
The  Towers  of  Justice  and  la  Vela — Exterior  and  Interior  of 
the  Moorish  Palace — Lodgings  within  the  Alhambra  Jurisdic- 
tion— The  Generalife — Boabdil  and  his  Portrait — BoabdiPs 
Queen  and  the  Abencerrage — View  from  the  Silla  del  Moro — 
Ole  Bull — Moorish  Antiquities — Their  Condition  and  the  Rea- 
sons— Parallel  cases  in  England  and  Scotland — Shilling  Exhi- 
bitions— John  Knox  and  the  Altar-piece  of  Queen  Mary 334 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Return  to  Malaga — A  Midnight  Adventure,  showing  the  Value 
of  a  wise  Wife — Loxa — Colmenar — Descent  to  the  Coast — 
Voyage  to  Gibraltar — Population  of  Gibraltar — Its  Situation 
— The  Alameda  and  Scare-crow  Statuary — Fortifications — 
English  and  Spanish  Soldiers — British  Officers  and  the  Siege  of 
Vera  Cruz — Contraband  Trade — Shamelessness  of  it — Its  De- 
crease— Lord  Brougham  and  the  Canada  Frontier — Views 
about  Gibraltar — Military  Funeral — Peninsular  Steamer — 
Cadiz — Lisbon — Oporto — General  Concha  and  the  Spanish 
Intervention — Vigo—  Spanish  Beef — The  Gallego  and  his 
Province 347 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Conclusion — French,  English,  and  American  Views  of  Spain — 
Spirit  of  Travelers — Spanish  Character,  Social,  Political,  and 
Religious — Origin,  Condition,  and  Remedy  of  their  Political 
System — A  Moral  for  Ourselves 362 

APPENDIX. 

I.  Epitaph  and  Works  of  Ferdinand  Columbus 374 

II.  Christopher  Columbus'  Copy  of  Petrus  Aliacus,  and  his  Je- 
rusalem or  Book  of  Prophecies 377 

III.  The  Bull  "  Cum  Ecelesiae,"  against  Tobacco 383 

JV.  Inscription  on  the  Wall  of  St.  Sebastian's  Hermitage,  relating 

to  the  Surrender  of  Granada .  384 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Departure  from  Marseilles — La  Ciotat — Fellow-travelers — English 
Tourists — Arrival  at  Barcelona,  and  Tribulations  at  the  Custom- 
house— The  Rambla  and  the  People  on  Promenade — Theophile 
Gautier — Marseilles  and  Barcelona  contrasted — Public  Buildings — 
The  Cathedral — Christopher  Columbus. 

WE  had  a  fellow-passenger  across  the  Atlantic,  to  whose 
untiring  cheerfulness  and  amiability  we  were  indebted  for 
the  most  of  our  few  pleasant  moments,  during  a  tedious 
and  stormy  voyage.  Being  a  Frenchman,  he  was  too  true 
to  his  national  character,  not  to  find  especial  refreshment  in 
an  occasional  scrap  of  philosophy,  and  used  frequently  to 
point  his  exhortations  with  the  salutary  moral  from  Candide 
the  Optimist,  that  "  every  thing  happens  for  the  best,  in  this 
best  of  worlds."  A  sea-sick  man,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
is  eminently  unphilosophical.  Some  Boethius  occasionally 
writes  a  volume  of  "  Consolations,"  in  a  prison,  but  no  man 
was  ever  known  to  do  such  a  thing  in  a  state-room.  I  con- 
fess, therefore,  that,  at  the  time,  I  had  a  higher  appreciation 
of  our  companion's  kindness  than  his  doctrine.  But  when, 
after  the  tribulation  that  usually  attends  an  invalid's  expe- 
rience of  the  mists  and  blasts  of  beautiful  France,  and  the 
snow  and  sleet  of  sunny  Italy,  I  found  myself  at  last  on 
board  the  good  steamer  "  El  Barcino,"  in  the  harbor  of  Mar- 
seilles, and  bound  direct  for  Spain,  I  began  to  think  better 
of  Candide,  and  to  believe  that  even  in  this  sorry  world,  the 
most  unlucky  sometimes  realize  their  wildest  hopes.  From 


14  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

my  childhood,  Spain  had  been  a  fairy  land  to  me.  I  remem- 
ber when  I  would  not  have  bartered  a  chance  of  visiting  its 
shores,  for  the  best  rub  at  Aladdin's  lamp.  Circumstances 
afterward  had  thrown  me  into  association  with  Spaniards, 
more  frequently  than  is  usual  with  our  countrymen,  and 
some  of  my  most  cherished  friendships  had  been  formed 
among  them.  Thus  made  familiar  with  their  language, 
and  interested  deeply  in  their  national  peculiarities  and 
character,  I  had  cultivated  their  literature  in  an  humble 
way,  as  far  as  one  might  venture  while  following  a  profes- 
sion which  gives  little  of  practical  sympathy  or  toleration  to 
any  learning  but  its  own.  Yet  it  had  never  occurred  to  me 
that  I  should  tread,  except  in  dreams,  the  bright  land  which 
I  had  so  often  seen  in  them  ;  and  now  that  but  a  single  day's 
journey  lay  between  my  wishes  and  their  consummation,  it 
will  not  be  wondered  that  I  should  have  hailed,  as  almost 
a  blessing,  the  ill-health  which  had  sent  me  on  my  journey. 
It  was  the  first  day  of  April,  1847,  and  scarce  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  the  first  revolution  of  the 
steamer's  wheels  threw  custom-house  boats  and  bores  behind 
us.  The  vociferations,  grimaces,  and  clumsy  and  absurd 
manoeuvres  which  attend  your  exit  from  a  French  port,  ren- 
der it  more  entertaining  than  any  other  nautical  thing,  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  your  entrance  into  the  same.  I  had  been 
so  busy  in  amusing  myself  with  these,  and  in  realizing 
the  fact  of  having  my  first  cup  of  orthodox  chocolate  in 
hand,  that  I  had  hardly  taken  any  cognizance  of  my  com- 
panions. They  were  few,  and  a  glance  around  the  little 
quarter-deck  soon  showed  me  that  they  were  admirably 
assorted  for  the  pleasure  which  grows  out  of  contrasts.  Two 
of  them  were  my  own  countrymen,  one  of  whom  had  spent 
his  life  in  Boston,  and  the  other  in  China.  There  was  an 
Englishman,  of  course,  for  of  Englishmen  traveling  nature 
abhors  a  vacuum,  and  you  stumble  on  them  every  where, 
in  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa.  You  may  know  them  wher- 
ever you  see  them,  not  merely  by  their  peculiarities  of  cos- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  15 

tume,  which  are  unequivocal,  but  by  their  loneliness  in 
crowds,  and  their  silence,  especially  when  spoken  to.  "Who 
are  those  persons  ?"  said  a  foreigner  once  to  me,  as  we  sailed 
along  the  Italian  coast.  "  They  are  Americans,"  I  answer- 
ed. "  Pardon  my  curiosity,"  was  the  reply,  "  my  compan- 
ions insisted  that  they  were  English,  and  I  knew  that  could 
not  be,  for  they  talked  to  each  other  at  table,  and  seemed 
to  be  enjoying  themselves  !" 

The  representative  of  Anglo-Saxondom,  upon  this  occa- 
sion, was  an  exception  to  the  national  rule,  and  was  no 
friend  to  restraints  upon  the  liberty  of  speech.  Though  he 
talked  French  and  Spanish  with  the  cackle  which  is  pecu- 
liar to  some  of  his  countrymen,  when  they  meddle  with 
strange  tongues,  he  persisted  in  cackling  at  all  hazards. 
He  had  Murray's  Hand-Book  of  Spain  under  one  arm,  and 
being  a  lieutenant  of  her  majesty's  navy,  carried  a  spy-glass 
under  the  other.  He  had,  no  doubt,  read  in  his  book  of  the 
great  veneration  and  respect  in  which  Englishmen  and  their 
opinions  are  held  in  Spain  ;  and  had  obviously  made  up  his 
mind  to  spy  out  the  nakedness  and  the  fullness  of  land  and 
water,  and  let  nothing  go  unseen  for  lack  of  being  looked  after. 
By  way  of  counterpoise  to  the  lieutenant  was  a  ready,  flu- 
ent Frenchman,  whose  ideas  were  evidently  of  the  "perfide 
Albion"  school  ;  for  he  was  in  a  national  discussion  with 
John  Bull,  before  we  were  well  out  of  sight  of  the  Chateau 
d'Yf.  He  was  of  the  sort  of  man  that  you  meet  among 
scarce  any  but  the  French,  and  so  frequently  among  them  ; 
a  cross  of  the  savant  and  the  commis  voyageur,  with  an 
equal  turn  for  trade  and  metaphysics,  and  ready  to  give  you, 
at  a  moment's  warning,  a  sample  of  the  latest  Lyons  silks, 
or  a  disquisition  on  man,  individual  and  social.  An  Italian 
marquis,  from  Cremona,  in  a  scarlet  cravat  and  foul  linen, 
who  was  making  a  pilgrimage  to  the  opening  of  the  new 
opera  house  at  Barcelona,  and  a  sturdy  Catalan  merchant, 
my  room-mate,  completed  the  list  of  our  company  in  the 
principal  cabin. 


16  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

I  had  anticipated  great  amusement  from  witnessing  the 
process  of  shaking  these  uncongenial  parts  into  a  pleasant 
whole,  but,  alas  !  what  is  there  on  earth  so  fleeting-  as  the 
happiness  of  a  landsman  on  the  water  ?  The  wind,  which, 
when  we  sallied  from  the  port,  scarce  bent  the  canvas  of 
the  light  vessels  which  were  every  where  about  us,  now 
drove  them  madly  through  the  foam ;  and  I  began  to  feel, 
that  though  Spain  lay  near  before  me,  the  Gulf  of  Lyons 
was  between.  By  an  absurd  regulation  of  the  navigation 
laws  of  the  Peninsula,  no  Spanish  vessel,  clearing  from  a 
port  so  near  the  Spanish  territory  as  Marseilles,  is  allowed 
the  full  privileges  of  a  Spanish  bottom.  Instead,  therefore, 
of  turning  his  bow  toward  Barcelona,  our  captain  was  com- 
pelled to  make  an  excursion  of  some  hours  in  an  opposite 
direction,  to  La  Ciotat,  a  little  town  on  the  French  coast,  the 
scene  of  the  "  Commander  of  Malta,"  one  of  the  most  popu- 
lar and  sulphurous  of  Alexandre  Dumas'  romances.  This 
gave  us  the  advantage  of  a  heavy  and  distressing  cross-sea, 
to  which,  I  suppose,  I  owe  the  fact,  that  my  recollections  of 
la  Ciotat  are  reduced  to  sundry  rotary  notions  of  white 
waves  and  white  houses,  and  riding  nauseously  at  anchor. 

Dinner,  on  the  Mediterranean  steamers,  is,  strictly,  what 
the  ecclesiastical  calendars  denominate  "  a  movable  feast," 
varying  from  two  to  six  o'clock,  according  to  the  increasing 
or  decreasing  appetites  of  the  passengers,  and  generally  corning 
on,  as  the  most  of  them  are  going  off.  I  only  remember  it, 
upon  the  day  in  question,  as  finding  me  in  a  horizontal  posi- 
tion in  my  berth,  listening  to  the  excited  voices  of  the 
Frenchman  and  the  lieutenant,  as  they  discussed  the  respective 
advantages  to  Spain,  of  British  smuggling,  on  the  one  side, 
and  the  Bourbons  and  the  family  compact,  on  the  other. 

Next  day  the  wind  was  heavy  and  ahead,  and  nothing 
kept  us  of  good  cheer,  but  the  tidings  which  some  of  the 
more  fortunate  would  occasionally  bring  down  to  us  of 
mountain  and  promontory,  as  we  ran  along  the  coast  of 
Catalonia.  It  was  near  nine,  of  a  cloudy,  gusty  night,  when 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  17 

we  dropped  anchor,  at  last,  in  the  harbor  of  Barcelona,  our 
voyage  having  been  longer  than  usual,  by  about  one-third. 
The  lateness  of  our  arrival  of  course  prevented  us  from  going 
on  shore,  so  that  we  lost  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the 
"  entierro  de  Cristo"  a  grand  funeral  procession  by  torch- 
light, which  still  forms  a  part,  as  we  learned,  of  the  Good- 
Friday  ceremonial  in  Barcelona,  though  it  has  been  abolish- 
ed in  almost  all  the  rest  of  Spain.  Wretched  as  we  were, 
however,  we  crept  from  our  state-rooms  to  the  deck,  to  see 
what  was  to  be  seen :  but  the  ship  was  out  in  the  throat 
of  the  harbor,  and  still  rode  heavily,  so  that  the  glimpse  we 
caught  of  the  far-off  lights  of  the  city  was  but  little  worth 
the  penalty  we  paid  for  it. 

The  next  morning  I  rose  as  they  were  warping  the  steam- 
er into  port.  The  city  lay  beautifully  in  the  center  of  its 
amphitheater  of  hills.  Upon  the  left,  as  we  faced  it,  towered 
up  Montjuich,  with  its  lofty  and  impregnable  fortress,  so 
famous,  unhappily,  in  civil  broil.  To  the  right  and  near 
us,  was  the  fine  mole,  behind  which  was  the  suburb  of 
Barceloneta,  with  its  painted  dwellings  and  its  crowd  of  fac- 
tories and  busy  industry.  In  the  inner  harbor,  just  in  front 
of  us,  lay  quite  a  fleet  of  vessels,  from  many  nations,  all  with 
their  colors  at  half-mast,  to  betoken  the  solemnity  of  the 
religious  festival.  The  buildings  of  the  city-proper  looked 
white  and  imposing  in  the  distance,  and  every  thing  ashore 
was  inviting  enough  to  make  us  more  and  more  impatient 
of  the  health-officer's  delay.  At  last,  that  functionary  came : 
took  our  papers,  as  if  we  had  been  direct  from  Constantinople, 
with  the  plague  sealed  up  in  a  dispatch  for  him :  but  finding, 
officially,  as  he  knew,  in  fact,  before,  that  we  were  just  from 
La  Ciotat,  and  had  with  us  no  contagion,  he  finally  gave  us 
leave  to  land  and  be  persecuted  at  the  Custom-house.  Leav- 
ing our  luggage  to  be  trundled  up  in  solido  after  us,  we  gave 
ourselves  into  the  hands  of  the  boatmen,  who  landed  us  safely, 
charged  us  mercifully,  and  bade  us  "go  with  God."' 

After  a  short  walk  we  reached  a  gate  where  we  were 


18  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

told  to  halt  and  give  our  names  to  an  officer.  We  dictated 
and  he  wrote,  but  I  trust  he  may  not  be  held  to  strict 
account  for  the  perverted  and  unchristian  style  in  which  he 
handed  us  down  to  posterity  and  the  police.  Many  a  more 
innocent  looking  word  than  he  made  of  my  name,  have  I 
seen  (in  Borrow's  "  Zincali,"  for  instance)  traced  all  the  way 
back  to  the  Sanscrit.  After  being  thus  translated  into 
Catalan  we  were  called  up,  by  our  new  titles,  to  be  searched. 
This  process  was  not  very  easy  to  bear  patiently,  for  the 
custom-house  officers  are  the  principal  agents  through  whom 
France  fraternizes  with  Catalonia,  in  the  smuggling-line, 
and  we  felt  that  they  might,  with  a  good  conscience,  have 
said  nothing  about  our  gnats,  after  having  swallowed  so 
many  camels  of  their  own.  Nevertheless,  we  all  managed 
to  keep  temper,  except  the  Italian,  who,  as  he  had  never 
gone  twenty  miles,  in  his  own  country,  without  having  to 
bribe  a  custom-house  squad,  felt  it  his  duty  to  be  especially 
indignant  at  the  same  thing,  when  away  from  home.  He 
had  designed  (he  said)  to  give  the  rascals  a  "  petseta"  (as 
he  would  persist  in  calling  the  peseta,  or  twenty-cent-piece) 
but  he  would  not  encourage  such  villainy  !  The  officials 
shrugged  their  shoulders,  thought  that  something  must  be 
wrong,  felt  his  pockets  over  again,  and  after  having  politely 
requested  him  to  pull  out  the  contents,  begged  him  to  "pasar 
adelante"  or,  in  other  words,  get  out  of  the  way,  with  his 
nonsense.  He  was  prudent  enough  to  obey,  but  not  without 
some  very  didactic  observations  upon  "  questi  Spagnuoli," 
in  general,  and  inspectors  of  the  customs,  especially.  We 
then  marched  to  the  palace-square,  upon  which  the  "  Cafe 
de  las  siete  puertas" opened  one  of  its  seven  portals  to  wel- 
come us  to  breakfast.  The  Custom-house  was  opposite,  and 
in  due  season  we  became  possessed  of  our  carpet-bags,  and 
proceeded  to  the  "  Fonda  del  Oriente"  which  had  been 
recommended  to  us  as  the  best  hotel  in  the  city. 

The  Fonda  is  a  fine-looking  house.,  fronting  on  the  Ram- 
the  principal  public  walk,  and  would,  no  djoubt,  be  very 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 


comfortable  among  the  orientals,  with  whom  its  name  asserts 
consanguinity  ;  but  as  the  cold  spring  wind  still  whistled 
from  the  hills,  it  gave  us  small  promise  of  comfort,  with  its 
tiled  floors  uncarpeted,  its  unchimneyed  walls,  and  its  bal- 
conies with  long,  wide  windows,  so  admirable  to  look  out 
from,  and  so  convenient  for  the  breeze  to  enter.  I  pulled 
aside  the  crimson  curtains  which  shut  up  my  bed  in  afl 
alcove,  and  there  came  from  it  an  atmosphere  so  damp  and 
chill,  that  I  did  not  wonder  at  the  hoarseness  of  the  artists 
in  the  adjoining  chamber,  who  were  rehearsing  what  would 
have  been  a  trio,  had  not  the  influenza  added  another  part. 
It  being  very  obvious  that  comfort  and  amusement  were  only 
to  be  found  out  of  doors,  we  soon  had  a  rendezvous  in  the 
court.  The  Fonda  was  a  famous  gathering-place  of  dili- 
gences, and  there  was  one  which  had  just  arrived.  We 
had  made  large  calculations  upon  the  grotesqueness  of  these 
vehicles,  for  we  had  all  read  the  strange  stories  which  trav- 
elers tell  of  them ;  but,  unhappily,  the  one  before  us  was  a 
capital  carriage,  of  the  latest  style  and  best  construction,  and 
the  conductor  and  postillion  looked  and  swore  very  much 
after  the  manner  of  the  best  specimens  of  their  class  in 
France  and  Italy.  Only  the  mules  excited  our  wonder. 
There  were  eight  of  them — tall,  powerful  animals,  and  each 
was  shorn  to  the  skin,  from  hough  to  shoulder-point,  with 
little  tufts  upon  the  extremities  of  ears  and  tail.  They 
might  readily  have  passed  for  gigantic  rats,  of  an  antedilu- 
vian species  with  a  hard  name,  or  a  new  variety  of  Dr. 
Obed  Batteus's  "  Vespertilio  horribilis  Americanus." 

The  Ranibla,  a  wide  and  pleasant  promenade,  runs  from 
the  outer  edge  of  the  city,  to  the  water.  The  trees  along 
its  sides  had  not  taken  the  coloring  of  spring,  and  the  weather 
was  raw  and  gusty,  but  it  was  a  half-holiday,  and  gentle 
and  simple  were  taking  their  noon-day  walk.  The  wealthier 
classes  wore  plain  colors  universally :  the  men  enveloped  in 
their  cloaks,  the,  women  iu  rich,  black  mantillas,  the  lace 
of  N&U&  just  foiftg  a  shadow  Qtt  theiv  &ces.  The  poorer 


20  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

people,  as  in  all  countries,  furnished  the  picturesque.  Full 
of  leisure  and  independence,  for  the  moment,  they  went  saun- 
tering up  and  down  ;  the  women  with  gay  shawls  drawn  high 
around  their  heads,  and  their  long  silver  or  gold  ear-rings, 
with  huge  pendants  of  topaz  glancing  in  the  sun  ;  the  men 
in  long  caps  of  red  or  purple,  and  striped  and  tasseled  man- 
tles, making  lively  contrast  with  the  rich  and  various  uni- 
forms of  the  soldiers  who  were  on  the  stroll.  Now  and  then 
among  the  crowd  you  might  discover  the  peaked  hat  so  gen- 
eral in  the  south,  bedecked  with  velvet  trimmings,  and  tufts 
of  black  wool  upon  the  brim  and  crown.  Accompanying  it, 
there  would  be  a  short  fantastic  jacket,  with  large  bell  but- 
tons dangling,  while  the  nether  man  was  gorgeous  in  breeches 
of  bright  blue,  with  black  leggings,  and  the  everlasting  al- 
pargata,  or  hempen  sandal.  "  Who  are  those  troops  ?"  I 
inquired  of  an  old  man,  as  a  squad  passed  us,  half-peasant, 
half-soldier  in  costume,  their  long,  blue  coats  with  red  facings 
fluttering  loose  behind  them.  "They  are  the  mozos  de  la 
escitadra,"  he  replied.  "What  is  their  branch  of  service?" 
"  To  keep  the  province  clear  of  thieves."  "Are  there,  then, 
thieves  in  Catalonia?"  "Of  si  senor  !  los  Iwy,  creo,  en 
todas  partes,  como  vmd.  sabrd"  ("Oh  yes,  sir,  there  are  some 
every  where,  I  think,  as  your  worship  may  know,")  said  the 
old  rascal,  with  a  knowing  leer. 

Theophile  Gautier,  in  his  pleasant  "  Voyage  en  Espagne," 
has  sufficient  gravity  to  say  that  Barcelona  has  nothing  of 
the  Spanish  type  about  it,  but  the  Catalonian  caps  and 
pantaloons,  barring  which,  he  thinks  .it  might  readily  be 
taken  for  a  French  city,  nay,  even  for  Marseilles,  which,  to 
his  notion,  it  strikingly  resembles.  Now  it  may  be  true,  as 
Dumas  says,  that  Theophile  professes  to  know  Spain  better 
than  the  Spaniards  themselves  ;  a  peculiarity,  by-the-by, 
among  travelers,  which  the  Spaniards  seem  to  have  had  the 
luck  of;  but  I  must  be  pardoned  upon  this  point,  for  knowing 
Marseilles  better  than  he,  having  been  there  twice,  for  my 
sins,  and  too  recently  to  be  under  any  illusions  on  the  subject. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  21 

Dust  from  my  feet  I  had  not  shaken  off  against  that  dirty 
city,  because  dust  there  was  none,  when  I  was  there,  and 
the  mud,  which  was  its  substitute,  was  too  tenacious  to  be 
easily  disposed  of.  Yet  I  had  sickening  recollections  of  its 
dark  and  inconceivably  filthy  port,  through  all  of  whose 
multiplied  and  complicated  abominations — solid,  liquid,  and 
gaseous — it  was  necessary  to  pass,  before  obtaining  the  limited 
relief  which  its  principal  but  shabby  street,  "la  Cannebiere" 
afforded.  In  the  whole  city,  I  saw  scarce  a  public  building 
which  it  was  not  more  agreeable  to  walk  away  from  than 
to  visit.  What  was  worth  seeing  had  a  new  look,  and 
with  the  exception  of  a  sarcophagus  or  two,  and  the  title  of 
"  Phoceens,"  assumed  by  the  Merchant's  Club,  in  right  of 
their  supposed  ancestors  from  Asia  Minor,  there  was  really 
nothing  which  pretended  to  connect  itself,  substantially,  with 
the  past.  Every  thing  seemed  under  the  influence  of  trade 
- — prosperous  and  ample,  it  is  true,  but  too  engrossing  to 
liberalize  or  adorn. 

In  Barcelona,  on  the  contrary,  you  look  from  your  vessel's 
deck  upon  the  Muralla  del  Mar,  or  sea-wall,  a  superb  ram- 
part, facing  the  whole  harbor,  and  lined  with  elegant  and 
lofty  buildings.  Of  the  churches,  I  shall  speak  presently. 
Upon  the  Rambla  are  two  theaters  :  one  opened  during  my 
visit,  and  decidedly  among  the  most  spacious  and  elegant  in 
Europe ;  the  other  of  more  moderate  pretensions,  but  tasteful 
and  commodious,  with  an  imposing  facade  of  marble.  In 
the  Palace  Square,  the  famous  Casa  Lonja,  or  Merchants' 
Hall,  stands  opposite  a  stately  pile  of  buildings,  erected  by 
private  enterprise,  and  rivaling  the  beauty  of  the  Rue  Rivoli 
of  Paris,  or  its  models,  the  streets  of  Bologna,  where  all  the 
side-walks  are  under  arcades.  On  the  other  side  of  the  same 
Plaza,  the  palace,  a  painted  Gothic,  fronts  the  Custom-house, 
which,  overladen  as  it  is  with  ornament,  has  yet  no  rival  in 
Marseilles.  Toward  the  center  of  the  city,  in  the  Square  of 
the  Constitution,  you  have  on  one  side  the  ancient  Audiencia, 
or  Hall  of  Justice,  whose  architectural  relics  bring  back  re- 


22  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

membrances  of  Rouen,  while  on  the  other  side  is  the  Casa 
Consistorial,  or  House  of  the  Consistory,  associated  in  its  fine 
architecture-  and  name,  if  not  its  present  uses,  with  the  days 
when  the  troubadour  and  the  gaye  science  were  at  home  in 
Barcelona,  under  the  polished  rule  of  the  Arragonian  kings. 
Every  where  throughout  the  city,  you  see  traces  of  the  past, 
and  of  a  great  and  enterprising  people  who  lived  in  it.  In- 
stead of  the  prostration  and  poverty  which  books  of  travel 
might  prepare  you  to  expect  as  necessary  to  a  Spanish  city, 
you  find  new  buildings  going  up,  in  the  place  of  old  ones 
demolished  to  make  room  for  them ;  streets  widened ;  do- 
mestic architecture  cultivated  tastefully  (as,  indeed,  from  the 
ancient  dwellings,  it  would  seem  to  have  always  been  in 
Barcelona),  together  with  all  the  evidences  of  capital  and 
enterprise,  made  visible  to  a  degree,  which  Marseilles,  with 
its  vastly  superior  commerce  and  larger  population,  does  not 
surpass. 

Nor,  even  as  to  the  people,  are  the  caps  and  trowsers  the 
only  un-French  features.  The  Catalan,  of  either  sex,  is  not 
graceful,  it  is  true,  or  very  comely.  The  women  want  the 
beauty,  the  walk,  the  style  of  the  Andalusians.  The  men 
are  more  reserved  in  manner,  less  elegant  and  striking  in 
form,  more  sober  in  costume  and  character  than  their  gay 
southern  brethren.  But  they  are  not  French  men  or  women, 
notwithstanding.  Imagine  a  Marseillaise  in  a  mantilla! 
"  Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown" — even  if  it 
be  but  the  crown  of  a  bonnet ;  and  it  is  impossible  for  one 
who  has  been  bred  to  the  use  of  those  great  equalizers  of 
female  head-carriage,  to  realize,  much  less  to  attain,  the  ease 
of  motion,  the  fine  free  bearing  of  the  head,  neck,  and  shoul- 
ders, which  the  simple  costume  of  the  Spanish  women  teaches, 
and  requires  to  make  it  graceful.  Where,  in  the  mincing 
gait  on  the  trottoirs,  will  you  find  the  proud,  elastic  step 
which  the  Spanish  maiden  is  born  to,  even  if  it  be  her  only 
inheritance  ?  And  where  (to  speak  generally)  among  the 
loungers  of  cafes,  and  readers  of  feuilletons,  or  the  proverb- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  23 

ially  brutal  populace  about  them,  do  you  see  the  parallel  of 
that  all-respecting  self-respect,  which  it  is  a  miracle  not  to 
find  in  the  bearing  of  a  Spaniard,  be  he  high  or  low  ?  It  is 
an  easy  thing,  M.  Gautier,  to  condense  a  city  into  a  paragraph ! 

From  the  Rambla,  we  went  down,  along  the  sea-wall, 
to  the  Palace  Square,  where  we  found  our  way  into  the 
Lonja.  The  chambers  of  the  commercial  tribunals  were 
in  excellent  taste.  In  each,  there  hung  a  portrait  of  the 
Queen,  and,  as  all  the  likenesses  were  very  much  alike,  I 
fear  that  they  resembled  her.  We  were  shown  through  a 
gallery  of  bad  pictures  and  statues — not  very  flattering  tes- 
timonials of  Catalonian  art.  During  one  of  the  recent  rev- 
olutions, some  indiscriminating  cannon-balls  had  left  these 
melancholy  manifestations  untouched,  and  had  done  a  good 
deal  of  damage  to  the  fine  Gothic  hall  of  the  merchants. 
None  but  bullets  fired  in  a  bad  cause  could  have  conducted 
themselves  so  tastelessly.  I  would  fain  believe,  however,  that 
the  more  judicious  Barcelonese  have  satisfied  themselves,  that 
the  practical,  not  the  ideal,  is  their  forte,  inasmuch  as  the 
extensive  schools  in  the  Lonja  which  are  supported  by  the 
Board  of  Commerce,  are  all  directed  with  a  view  to  useful- 
ness. Those  of  drawing  and  architecture  are  upon  a  scale 
to  afford  facilities,  the  tithe  of  which  I  should  be  happy  to 
see  gratuitously  offered  to  the  poor,  in  any  city  of  our  Union. 

An  attractive  writer  (the  author  of  the  "Year  in  Spain") 
tells  us  that  "  the  churches  of  Barcelona  are  not  remarkable 
for  beauty."  Externally,  he  must  have  meant,  which,  to  a 
certain  extent,  perhaps,  is  true  ;  but  as  to  their  interior,  it 
is  impossible  to  understand  such  a  conclusion.  The  Cathe- 
dral and  Santa  Maria  del  Mar  are  remarkable,  not  only  as 
graceful  specimens,  in  themselves,  of  the  most  delicate  Gothic 
art,  but  as  resembling,  particularly,  in  style,  in  the  color  of 
their  dark-gray  stone,  and  in  their  gorgeous  windows,  the 
very  finest  of  the  Norman  models.  Indeed,  the  great  prev- 
alence of  this  similarity  in  the  churches  of  the  province,  has 
induced  the  belief,  among  approved  writers,  that  the  Nor- 


24  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

mans  themselves  introduced  the  Gothic  into  Catalonia. 
Santa  Maria  del  Mar  reminds  you,  at  a  respectful  distance, 
of  St.  Ouen,  in  the  boldness  and  elevation  of  its  columns 
and  arches,  and  the  splendor  of  its  lights.  It  has  an  ex- 
quisite semi-circular  apsis,  corresponding  to  which  is  a  col- 
onnade of  the  same  form  surrounding  the  rear  of  the  high 
altar ;  a  feature  peculiar  to  the  Barcelonese  churches,  and 
giving  to  their  interior  a  finish  of  great  airiness  and  grace. 

From  Santa  Maria,  we  rambled  up  to  the  Cathedral, 
through  many  by-streets  and  cross-ways,  passing  through 
the  oldest  and  quaintest  portion  of  the  city,  and  occasion- 
ally creeping  under  a  queer,  heavy  archway,  that  seemed  to 
date  back  almost  to  the  days  of  Ramon  Berenguer.  For- 
tunately, we  entered  the  church  by  one  of  the  transept 
doors,  and  thus  avoided  seeing,  until  afterward,  the  unfinish- 
ed, unmannerly  fa9ade.  It  would  not  be  easy  to  describe 
the  impression  made  on  me  by  my  first  view  of  the  interior 
of  this  grand  temple,  without  the  use  of  language  more 
glowing,  perhaps,  than  critical.  When  we  entered,  many 
of  the  windows  were  shaded ;  and  it  was  some  time  before 
our  eyes,  fresh  from  the  glare  of  outer  day,  became  suffi- 
ciently accustomed  to  the  gloom,  to  search  out  the  fairy 
architecture  in  it.  But,  by  degrees,  the  fine  galleries,  the 
gorgeous  glass,  the  simple  and  lofty  arches  in  concentering 
clusters,  the  light  columns  of  the  altar-screen,  and  the  per- 
fect fret- work  of  the  choir,  grew  into  distinctness,  until  they 
bewildered  us  with  their  beautiful  detail.  What  treatises, 
what  wood-cuts,  what  eulogies,  should  we  not  have,  if  the 
quaint  carvings,  of  which  the  choir  is  a  labyrinth,  were 
transferred  to  Westminster,  and  the  stalls  and  canopies  of 
the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Fleece  were  side  by  side  with 
those  of  Henry  the  Seventh's  far-famed  chapel !  The  same 
dark  heads  of  Saracens  which  looked  down  on  us  from  the 
"  corbels  grim,"  had  seen  a  fair  gathering  of  chivalry,  when 
Charles  V.,  surrounded  by  many  of  the  gallant  knights 
whose  blazons  were  still  bright  around  us,  held  the  last 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  25 

chapter  of  his  favorite  order  there  !  Perhaps — and  how 
much  more  elevating  was  the  thought  than  all  the  dreams 
of  knighthood  ! — perhaps,  in  the  same  solemn  light  which 
a  chance  ray  of  sunshine  flung  down  the  solitary  nave,  Co- 
lumbus might  have  knelt  before  that  very  altar,  when  Bar- 
celona hailed  him  as  the  discoverer  of  a  world  !  Let  us 
tread  reverently  !  He  may  have  pressed  the  very  stones 
beneath  our  feet,  when,  in  his  gratitude,  he  vowed  to  Heav- 
en, that  with  horse  and  foot  he  would  redeem  the  Holy  Sep- 
ulcher  !  "  Satan  disturbed  all  this,"  he  said,  long  after,  in 
his  melancholy  way,  when  writing  to  the  Holy  Father  ; 
"  but,"  then  he  adds,  "  it  were  better  I  should  say  nothing 
of  this,  than  speak  of  it  lightly."  May  it  not  have  been, 
even  in  the  moments  of  his  first  exultation,  that  here,  in  the 
shadow  of  these  gray  and  awful  aisles,  he  had  forebodings 
of  hopes  that  were  to  be  blighted,  and  proud  projects  of 
ambitious  life  cast  irretrievably  away  ? 

B 


CHAPTER  II. 

Easter  Eggs — La  Mona — High  Mass  on  Easter  Sunday — A  ride  to 
Gracia — Montjuich — Notre  Dame  de  la  Garde — The  Plaza  de 
Toros,  and  Yankee  Company — Opening  of  the  Great  Opera  House 
— Social  Habits  of  the  Barcelonese — Musical  Tastes. 

BOOKS  on  symbolism  are  very  much  in  vogue  now,  and 
some  of  the  writers  in  that  line  would  not  be  occupying  their 
abilities  much  less  profitably  than  usual,  were  they  to  investi- 
gate the  mystical  connection  between  Easter  and  dyed  hens'- 
eggs.  But  a  fortnight  before  my  arrival  in  Barcelona,  I  had 
seen  old  women,  by  the  score,  hawking  the  last-named  com- 
modity about,  under  the  wings  of  the  lion  of  St.  Mark's,  in 
anticipation  of  the  holy  season.  Mrs.  Butler,  in  her  "Year 
of  Consolation,"  tells  us  that  she  saw  Easter-eggs  in  Rome, 
decked  with  feathers  and  artificial  flowers,  but  that  they 
were  not  by  any  means  as  beautiful  as  some  that  she  had 
seen,  from  Russia.  Every  one  knows  how  deadly  a  blow 
is  given  to  the  hopes  of  young  poultry  in  embryo,  by  the 
approach  of  the  same  solemn  feast  with  us  in  the  United 
States,  and  if  therefore  there  be  any  thing  in  the  orthodox 
maxim,  "  quod  semper  et  ubique"  &c.,  the  custom  in  ques- 
tion must  be  as  near  orthodoxy  as  any  thing  profane  can  be. 
Drake  says  that  "  Pasche  eggs"  were  eaten  in  England  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  as  emblematic  of  the  resurrection ;  a 
ceremony  which,  he  informs  us,  was  recognized  by  the  Ritual 
of  Pope  Paul  V.,  wherein  there  is  a  form  of  prayer  for  their 
consecration.  It  would  puzzle  the  most  learned  symbolist, 
however,  it  occurs  to  me,  to  fathom  the  peculiar  system  of 
correspondences  which  the  Barcelonese  have  instituted  in 
the  premises.  Not  only  was  there  every  variety  of  hue  and 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  27 

device  upon  the  shells,  but  in  the  windows  of  every  pastry- 
cook or  baker,  and  at  all  the  stalls  where  appetite  was  tempted, 
in  the  public  places,  there  were  piles  of  loaves,  shaped  very 
much  like  shoe-lasts,  and  having  at  each  end,  an  egg,  strapped 
and  baked  nicely  and  securely  in,  between  two  slips  of  crust 
or  pastry.  On  Easter-eve,  it  was  edifying  to  see  how  women, 
men,  and  children  ("  oh  dura  ilia!")  not  having  the  fear  of 
indigestion  before  their  eyes,  thronged  to  possess  themselves 
of  the  commodity,  with  the  deliberate  intention,  of  eating 
it.  They  called  this  bread  la  mona — the  monkey — and 
a  challenge  to  eat  the  monkey-— comer  la  mona — is  one 
which  all  the  world  is  ready  to  give  or  to  accept.  A  kind 
acquaintance,  native  and  to  the  mona  born,  gave  me  its 
history,  and  commended  it  to  me  as  a  special  luxury.  Even 
my  Spanish  predilections,  however,  were  not  equal,  I  confess, 
to  such  a  test,  and  I  thus  began  to  learn,  what  is  not  alto- 
gether useless  to  an  American,  that  a  stranger  must  be 
excused,  at  first,  if  he  is  not  able  to  swallow  "peculiar 
institutions,"  with  a  relish. 

The  crowd  continued,  late  and  busy,  on  the  Rambla,  and 
when  I  retired,  the  lights  were  still  blazing  in  gay  vistas 
along  it,  though  the  watchmen  were  crying  "  Ave  Maria 
purissima,"  in  token  that  it  was  midnight.  I  strove  to  win 
slumber  within  my  red  bed-curtains,  but  a  love-lorn  trouba- 
dour of  a  cat,  with  a  strong  smack  of  the  Limousin  in  his 
accent  (and  who  had  probably  come  up,  like  my  friend  the 
marquis,  to  the  opening  of  the  opera),  sang  serenades  in  my 
sleepless  ear  till  it  was  almost  morning. 

Our  first  enterprise,  on  Easter  Sunday,  was  to  endeavor 
to  mount  one  of  the  Cathedral  towers,  and  to  have,  as  it  was 
a  bright  day,  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  city  and  its  environs. 
In  prosecution  of  our  plan  we  entered  the  body  of  the  church, 
about  half  an  hour  before  high  mass  had  ended.  The  aisles 
which  we  had  seen  all  lonely  the  day  before,  were  crowded 
with  zealous  worshipers — the  high  altar  was  blazing  with  a 
multitude  of  soft  lights ;  the  ceremonial  and  vestments  were 


28  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

very  rich ;  the  choir  was  full,  and  a  fine  orchestra  (for  Bar- 
celona is  very  musical)  aided  the  sweet-toned  organ.  High 
over  all,  the  morning  sun  streamed  through  the  painted 
windows,  and  you  could  see  the  incense  which  was  fragrant 
before  the  altar,  curling  around  the  capitals,  and  clinging  to 
the  arches.  The  whole  was  deeply  impressive,  and  I  could 
not  but  observe  the  contrast  of  the  congregation,  in  its  silent 
and  attentive  worship,  with  the  restless,  and  sometimes  noisy 
devotions  of  which  I  had  seen  so  much  in  Italy.  Here 
were  110  marchings  to  and  fro  ;  no  gazing  at  pictures  ;  no 
turning  of  backs  upon  the  altar ;  no  groups,  for  conversazione, 
round  the  columns ;  nothing  to  mar  the  solemnity  of  the  occa- 
sion, or  break  the  echoes  of  the  majestic  music,  as  they  swept 
along  the  lofty  roof,  seeming  almost  to  stir  to  motion  the  old 
pennons  that  hang  above  the  altar,  so  high,  and  now  so  much 
the  worse  for  time,  that  their  proud  quartering*  are  visible 
no  more.  At  last,  the  service  came  to  its  end,  and  the  people 
went  their  ways  to — buy  tickets  for  the  theater.  At  all 
events,  we  met  a  considerable  portion  of  the  congregation, 
thus  occupied,  when  we  went  down  the  street  soon  after. 
The  sacristan  would  not  allow  us  to  ascend  the  tower  with- 
out a  permit,  which  it  was  then  too  late  to  procure,  so  that 
after  straying  a  little  while  through  the  beautiful  cloisters, 
where  fine  orange  and  lemon- trees  and  bright,  fragrant  flow- 
ers charmed  away  the  sadness  of  the  worn  gray. stone,  we 
returned  to  our  Fonda,  to  seek  the  means  of  visiting  some 
of  the  environs. 

After  we  had  waited  for  an  hour,  a  fellow  made  his  ap- 
pearance in  the  court-yard,  driving  a  huge  lumbering  vehicle, 
covered  with  green  and  gold,  very  square  and  peculiar  in 
shape,  but,  on  the  whole,  sufficiently  coachiform,  and  drawn 
by  a  pair  of  long-tailed  blacks,  with  collars,  on  which  jingled 
many  bells.  We  made  our  bargain,  and  were  cheated,  of 
course,  as  we  afterward  found ;  horse  and  coach-dealing 
being,  here  as  elsewhere,  greatly  subversive  of  moral  princi- 
ple. Away  we  went,  up  the  Rambla,  at  a  great  pace,  to 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  29 

the  astonishment  and  apparent  amusement  of  the  crowd. 
Once  outside  the  walls,  our  coachman  gave  us  the  benefit 
of  slow  jolts  over  a  rough  road  to  Gracia,  a  little  village 
some  two  miles  from  the  city,  which  is  surrounded,  and  in 
some  degree  formed,  by  country-houses  and  their  appurte- 
nances. No  doubt,  in  the  summer  season,  this  excursion 
may  be  a  pleasant  one,  but  the  cold  driving  wind  which 
came  down  from  the  mountains  as  we  took  it,  made  it  bleak 
enough  to  us.  Hedges  of  roses,  it  is  true,  were  in  luxuriant 
bloom,  and  the  fertile  fields  of  the  Pla  (plain)  were  as  green 
as  spring  could  make  them.  The  aloe  and  the  prickly-pear 
too,  did  their  best  to  look  tropical,  but  it  was  a  useless  effort, 
for  the  wind  beat  and  battered  them  rudely,  and  they  and 
the  painted  torres  (towers),  or  country-boxes,  looked  uncom- 
fortably out  of  place,  naked,  desolate,  and  chilly.  To  turn 
our  backs  upon  the  breeze,  we  directed  our  driver  to  carry 
us  to  Montjuich,  which,  as  I  have  said,  is  a  commanding 
eminence  to  the  southwest,  on  the  left  hand  as  you  enter 
the  harbor.  Creeping  slowly  around  the  outside  of  the  city 
walls,  which  are  heavy,  strong,  and  well  guarded,  we  passed 
by  the  quarter  where  the  forest  of  tall  chimneys  indicated 
the  business  hive  of  the  manufacturers,  and  then,  crossing  a 
fertile  plateau  beautifully  irrigated  and  in  high  cultivation, 
we  were  set  down  at  the  foot  of  Montjuich.  Up  the  hill 
we  toiled,  faithfully  and  painfully,  on  foot.  Ford  calls  it 
a  "fine  zig-zag  road."  I  will  testify  to  the  zig-zig — but 
as  to  the  fineness  must  beg  leave  to  distinguish.  At  last 
we  reached  the  fortress,  which  sits  impregnable  upon  the 
summit,  and  to  our  chagrin  were  quietly  informed  by  the 
sentinel  at  the  postern,  that  we  could  not  enter,  without  a 
permit.  This  we  had  not  provided,  through  ignorance  of 
its  necessity,  and  we  accordingly  put  in  our  claim  to  their 
politeness,  as  strangers.  The  sentinel  called  the  corporal, 
the  corporal  went  to  his  officer,  the  officer  hunted  up  the 
governor,  and  by  the  same  gradations  a  polite  message  de- 
scended to  us,  to  the  effect,  that,  as  we  were  strangers,  the 


30  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

usual  requisitions  would  be  waived,  if  we  knew  any  body  in 
the  castle  by  name,  whom  we  could  go  through  the  form  of 
asking  for.  We  knew  no  one,  and  being  reasonable  people, 
went  on  our  way  in  ill  humor  with  no  one  but  ourselves. 
Not  being,  any  of  us,  military  men,  which  in  a  company  of 
three,  from  our  land  of  colonels,  was  quite  a  wonder,  we 
persuaded  ourselves  that  we  had  not  lost  much,  for  from  the 
base  of  the  fortress  we  had  a  charming  view  of  the  white 
city  ;  its  fine  edifices,  public  and  private,  with  their  flat 
roofs  and  polygonal  towers ;  the  harbor,  with  all  its  festive 
banners  streaming ;  the  green  valley,  carrying  plenty  up  into 
the  gorges  of  the  hills  ;  and  the  sea,  rolling  far  as  eye  could 
reach,  a  few  dim  specks  of  canvas  here  and  there  whitening 
its  bosom. 

Beautiful  as  the  sight  was,  however,  I  must  make  the 
concession  to  M.  Gautier,  that  it  was  not  as  fine  as  what  I 
had  seen  at  Marseilles  at  the  close  of  the  preceding  Janu- 
ary. On  one  of  the  few  bright  days  which  I  (or  any  one 
else)  had  seen  in  France  that  winter,  I  had  climbed  up  to 
the  votive  chapel  of  Notre  Dame  de  la  Garde.  The  at- 
mosphere was  very  clear,  and  to  my  surprise — for  it  was 
my  first  sight  of  a  southern  city — there  was  no  volume  of 
smoke  or  vapor  to  intercept  the  full  view  of  every  thing  on 
land.  Only  toward  the  horizon,  seaward,  a  light  fog  cur- 
tained the  dancing  waters,  over  which,  here  a  steamer,  there 
a  ship,  here  again  a  little  fleet  of  fishing-smacks,  with 
lateen  sails,  were  plowing  their  merry  course.  The  rocky 
islands  in  the  harbor,  with  their  fort  and  castle,  and  snug 
little  port  with  many  masts,  were  glancing  gayly  in  the 
sun.  The  rough,  stern  headlands,  swelling  farther  and  far- 
ther from  the  center  as  they  receded  in  the  distance,  lost 
something  of  their  savageness,  as  they  hid  their  outline  un- 
der a  canopy  of  mist  and  cloud.  The  bells  of  many  towers 
seemed  to  be  chiming  for  my  pleasure  as  I  stood  and  gazed  ; 
so  that,  with  their  cheerful  sound,  the  broad,  bright  sea,  the 
sunlight  and  the  pleasant  air,  I  felt  that  even  Marseilles 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  31 

was,  for  the  moment,  lovely,  and  that  one  might  cross  the 
Atlantic  for  such  a  sight.  But — we  are  in  Spain.  Re- 
turning to  the  city,  we  crossed  to  the  Garden  of  the  General, 
a  sweet  little  spot,  prettily  laid  out,  and  planted  with  box 
and  innumerable  flowering  shrubs,  which  were  in  delicious 
fragrance  and  bloom.  There  were  fountains  and  aviaries 
there ;  fish-ponds,  duck-ponds,  and  even  goose-ponds,  and  all 
manner  of  people,  of  all  sorts  and  ages.  This  garden,  with 
a  little  walk  beside  it,  is  the  last  of  a  series  of  beautiful 
promenades  which  lead  into  each  other,  traversing  the  whole 
city,  from  the  groves  upon  its  outskirts  to  the  splendid  ter- 
races along  the  shore. 

By  this  time  we  were  well-nigh  fatigued  enough,  but 
there  was  still  an  exhibition  to  be  witnessed,  which  it  did 
not  become  us,  as  good  patriots,  to  neglect.  The  Plaza  de 
Toros,  or  bull-amphitheater,  was  the  gathering-place  of  the 
whole  population  ;  not,  however,  to  behold  the  fierce  combats 
peculiar  to  its  arena,  for  with  such  things  the  tumultuous 
burghers  of  Barcelona  were  not  to  be  trusted.  A  harmless 
substitute  there  was,  in  the  shape  of  the  "  Compania  An- 
glo-Americana," or  Yankee  company,  who  were  delighting 
the  sons  of  the  troubadours  with  their  gymnastics.  Every 
body  remembers  the  remoteness  of  the  regions,  into  which 
the  Haytien  dignitary  had  the  assurance  to  say  that  our  esti- 
mable countrymen  would  follow  a  bag  of  coffee.  Here  was 
a  parallel  case.  As  we  entered,  Jonathan  was  performing 
a  hornpipe,  on  stilts,  much  more  at  his  ease  (it  being  Sun- 
day) than  if  he  had  been  at  home  within  sight  of  Plymouth 
Rock.  He  then  gave  them  a  wrestling  match,  after  the 
manner  which  is  popularly  ascribed  to  "  the  ancients ;"  af- 
terward, a  few  classical  attitudes,  with  distortions  of  muscle, 
according  to  the  Michael  Angelesque  models,  and,  finally, 
made  his  appearance  as  a  big  green  frog,  so  perfectly  natu- 
ral, both  in  costume  and  deportment,  that  in  Paris  he  would 
have  run  the  risk,  scientific  and  culinary,  of  having  his 
nether  limbs  both  galvanized  and  fried.  We  paid  him  the 


32  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

respect  of  our  presence  and  applause  for  a  little  while,  and 
lingered  to  witness  the  excitement  of  the  immense  assem- 
blage, so  strange  and  picturesque,  and  to  hear  their  wild 
cries  and  saucy  jests.  The  afternoon  then  being  quite  well 
advanced,  we  were  trundled  home,  in  due  magnificence,  to  a 
worse  dinner  than  we  had  earned. 

About  seven  in  the  evening,  a  kind  gentleman  of  the 
city  called,  by  arrangement,  to  conduct  me  to  the  opening 
of  the  new  Opera-house,  the  Liceo  de  Ysabel  Segunda. 
There  was  a  crowd  around  the  entrances,  and  we  found  it 
difficult  to  make  our  way  in,  so  that  I  had  time  enough  to 
see  that  the  facade,  which  looked  paltry  by  day-light,  was 
no  better  with  the  benefit  of  the  grand  illumination.  The 
front,  however,  and  some  few  of  the  minor  arrangements  of 
the  interior,  were  all  that  could  be  reasonably  found  fault 
with  ;  for  the  establishment  is  really  magnificent,  and  full 
of  the  appliances  of  taste  and  luxury.  Its  cost  was  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  ;  and  the  stockholders 
had  no  doubt  of  being  able  to  realize  the  interest  of  this 
large  sum,  and  more,  from  the  rent  of  the  elegant  shops 
upon  the  ground  floor.  I  mention  this  fact,  as  an  evidence 
both  of  enterprise  and  prosperity.  The  grand  circle  of  the 
theater  is  larger,  by  measurement,  than  that  of  the  San 
Carlo  at  Naples,  or  the  Scala  of  Milan ;  and  being  finish- 
ed, like  the  Italian  Opera-house  at  Paris,  with  balconies,  or 
galleries,  in  front  of  the  boxes  and  slightly  below  their 
level,  it  has  a  far  more  graceful  and  amphitheater-like  effect 
than  the  perpendicular  box-fronts  of  the  Italian  houses,  and 
especially  the  close,  dingy  walls  of  the  Scala.  The  orna- 
ments, though  abundant,  are  neither  profuse  nor  tawdry. 
The  magnificent  gas  chandelier,  aided  by  a  thousand  lesser 
lights,  developed  all  the  beautiful  appointments  of  the  boxes, 
with  their  drapery  of  gold  and  crimson,  and  the  fine  seen- 
ery,  dresses,  and  decorations  of  the  stage.  I  had  seen  noth- 
ing but  the  Italiem  of  Paris  to  rival  the  effect  of  the  whole 
picture.  The  boxes  of  the  lower  tier  are  private  property, 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  33 


belonging  to  the  contributors,  or  members  of  the  Lyceum. 
My  intelligent  companion  informed  me  that  this  is  a  species 
of  property  in  very  general  request,  there  being  scarcely  a 
respectable  family  without  a  box,  or,  at  all  events,  some 
special  accommodations  of  its  own,  in  some  one  of  the.  the- 
aters. The  rights  of  the  owners,  he  told  me,  are  the  sub- 
ject of  litigation  almost  as  often  as  those  relating  to  real 
property.  They  (the  boxes  and  the  law  suits)  descend  from 
father  to  son. 

Each  box  in  the  Liceo  has  two  apartments,  as  usual  in 
Europe.  In  the  outer  one,  which  you  enter  from  the  lobby, 
and  which  is  a  sort  of  retiring  room,  you  leave  your  cloak 
and  hat,  and  perhaps  meet  those  members  of  the  family 
you  visit,  who  are  not  interested  in  the  performance  and 
prefer  a  quiet  chat.  The  inner  boxes,  of  course,  open  on 
the  body  of  the  theater,  and  every  one  was  in  them  on  the 
evening  of  my  visit.  The  assemblage  was  immense,  and  it 
would  not  be  easy  to  find,  any  where,  one  indicating  good 
taste  and  refinement  more  decidedly.  The  gentle  sex  must 
pardon  me,  however,  for  admitting  that,  to  my  eye,  beauty 
was  the  exception  that  night,  rather  than  the  rule.  I  had 
expected  more,  for  M.  de  Balzac  had  said  somewhere  of  the 
Catalonian  women,  that  their  eyes  were  composed  of  "vel- 
vet and  fire  ;"  but  I  soon  discovered  that  the  remark  had  less 
foundation  in  fact,  than  in  that  peculiarity  of  the  French 
imagination,  which  is  so  fond,  in  the  descriptive,  of  mingling 
fancy  with  fancy-goods.  I  may  be  wrong,  it  is  true;  for  the 
Imperial  Frederick,  seven  centuries  ago,  in  his  best  Limou- 
sin, declared — 

"  I  love  the  noble  Frenchman, 
And  the  Catalonian  maid." 

And  yet,  I  should  not  wonder  if  both  the  Gaul  and  the 
fair  Catalan  have  undergone  a  change  since  those  days. 

I  learned,  in  the  course  of  conversation  in  the  evening, 
that  the  theater  has  much  to  do  with  the  social  enjoyments 
of  Barcelona,  Morning  visits  form  the  principal  intercourse 


34  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

of  ladies  in  their  own  houses.  Evening  parties  are  very 
rare,  and  it  is  only  at  the  theaters  that  the  higher  classes 
meet,  with  freedom  and  frequency.  The  usages  of  etiquette 
are  very  easy  and  pleasant.  If  you  are  a  friend,  you  drop 
in  sans  fapon,  and  drop  out  when  you  like.  If  you  are  a 
stranger,  you  are  presented  to  the  lady  of  the  box,  and  that 
formality  gives  you  the  freedom  of  the  circle,  and  of  all  the 
conversation  that  goes  round  it — imposing  the  payment  of 
no  tribute  but  that  of  your  best  bow  to  each  and  all,  when 
it  pleases  you  to  retire.  There  is  no  knowing  what  a 
quantity  of  pleasant  business  you  can  attend  to  during  the 
progress  of  a  long  opera — making  your  pilgrimage  to  many 
shrines.  Neither  is  it  easy  to  calculate  how  much  aid  and 
comfort  you  may  find  from  a  solo  or  an  orchestral  move- 
ment, in  those  pauses  of  conversation,  which,  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  are  so  often  uncomfortable,  if  not  melancholy. 
•  It  is  difficult  to  discover  whether  fondness  for  music  produced 
this  custom  in  Barcelona,  or  whether  the  custom  produced 
the  fondness.  One  thing,  however,  is  very  certain :  the 
Barcelonese  are  good  musicians,  and  generally  keep  an  ex- 
cellent company.  My  friend  the  marquis,  who  was  himself 
a  director  of  an  opera  at  home,  informed  me,  that  they  pay 
so  liberally  for  good  artists,  as  to  take  a  great  many  of  the 
best  second-rate  performers  from  Italy.  Their  musical  pre- 
dilections are  of  long  standing.  A  gentleman  who  knew, 
told  me,  in  proof  of  it,  that  some  of  the  earliest  republica- 
tions  of  Metastasio's  works  were  made  at  Barcelona.  The 
prices  of  admission  to  the  theaters  are  very  low — so  much 
so,  that  there  is  scarce  a  laborer  too  poor  to  find  his  way  to 
the  opera,  on  Sundays  or  feast  days.  By  the  returns  of 
the  ticket-offices,  as  published  in  the  journals,  the  day  after 
Easter,  there  were  four  thousand  six  hundred  spectators  at 
the  opening  of  the  Lyceum ;  over  one  thousand  attended 
the  Teatro  nuevo  ;  and  between  nine  hundred  and  one  thou- 
sand were  at  the  Teatro  principal.  As  music  is  what  they 
generally  hear,  it  will  not  seem  strange  that  the  humblest 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  35 

of  them  should  he  fond  of  it,  and  generally  fair  judges  of 
its  quality.  This  last,  however,  is  more  than  I  can  hon- 
estly profess  to  be  ;  and,  therefore,  I  was  rather  pleased 
than  otherwise  that  they  had  selected  a  historical  play,  for 
the  opening  of  the  Lyceum.  It  was  by  Ventura  .de  la 
Vega,  a  living  poet  of  considerable  reputation  and  merit, 
and  was  founded  on  the  popular  and  noble  story  of  Ferdi- 
nand the  First  of  Aragon,  called  "  He  of  Antequera."  The 
piece  of  itself  is  full  of  fine  passages,  with  excellent  dra- 
matic situations  and  effect,  and  was  gotten  up  with  great 
brilliancy.  The  part  of  Ferdinand  was  by  the  famous  La 
Torre,  considered  the  firlt  master,  and  one  of  the  best  per- 
formers in  Spain.  He  is  a  quiet  actor,  of  fine  personal  ap- 
pearance ;  something  like  Charles  Kemble  in  his  style,  and, 
unhappily,  a  good  deal  like  him  in  his  voice,  for  he  is  grow- 
ing old.  His  reading  and  articulation  were  admirable,  but 
a  great  deal  was  lost,  the  house  being  too  large  for  any 
thing  but  opera,  ballet,  or  spectacle. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  Catalans  —  English  Philanthropy  and  the  Cotton-question  — 
Smuggling  and  Prohibitive  Laws  —  Protective  Policy  and  Free- 
Trade — Don  Javier  de  Burgos. 

THE  Catalans,  as  all  the  world  knows,  have  been  famous, 
from  their  earliest  history,  for  industry,  intelligence,  energy, 
obstinacy,  and  combativeness.  Fond,  alike,  of  freedom  and 
money,  they  have  seldom  lost  an  opportunity  of  asserting  the 
one,  or  scraping  up  the  other.  They  were  always  among  the 
foremost  to  bully  or  rebel  against  an  unruly  king,  in  the  times 
when  such  performances  were  more  perilous  than  at  present, 
and  in  these  days  of  pronunciamientos,  they  will  get  you  up 
a  civil  war,  or  regale  themselves  with  a  bombardment,  upon 
as  short  notice  as  the  gamins  of  Paris  require  to  break  down 
an  old  dynasty  or  blow  up  a  new  one.  Their  physiognomy 
and  general  bearing  show  you,  unequivocally  and  at  once, 
that  they  are  a  sturdy,  manly,  independent  people.  They 
are  quiet  and  grave,  upon  the  promenades  and  in  the  public 
places,  but  they  have  an  air  of  doggedness  about  them  which 
strikes  you,  at  first,  as  peculiar  to  individuals,  but  which  you 
soon  find  to  be  almost  universal.  The  common  people,  in  their 
provincial  dress,  look  sullen  and  fierce.  Their  sandals  and 
girded  loins  give  them  a  pilgrim-air,  as  of  men  from  far  coun- 
tries, and  their  harsh,  grating  dialect  seems  no  improper  vehicle 
for  the  expression  of  their  habitual  turbulence.  Nevertheless 
you  see  few  beggars  and  no  idlers  among  them.  They  are  doing 
something,  always,  and  doing  it  in  good  earnest,  as  if  they 
took  pleasure,  as  well  as  profit,  to  consist,  chiefly,  in  occupation. 

The  Infante  Don  Gabriel  (one  of  the  -few,  among  the 
later  Bourbons,  who  have  had  capacity  enough  to  say  or  do 
any  thing  sensible)  was  the  author  of  some  clever  verses,  de- 
scriptive of  the  several  provincial  characteristics  of  his  country- 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  37 

men.  Of  the  Catalans,  he  says,  among  other  things,  that  they 
are  able 

"  Hacer,  de  las  piedras,  panes" — 

to  convert  stones  into  bread  ;  and,  indeed,  when  we  look  at 
the  rugged  soil  which  they  have  subdued  into  fertility,  and 
the  constancy  and  patient  industry  with  which  they  give 
themselves  to  the  severest  labor  upon  land  and  sea,  we  must 
concede  that,  even  if  they  be,  as  their  countrymen  allege,  the 
most  querulous  and  exacting  of  the  provincial  family,  it  is 
from  no  reluctance  to  put  their  own  shoulders  to  the  wheel, 
that  they  call  so  often  upon  Hercules.  Some  travelers  say 
that  they  are  uncivil  to  strangers.  My  experience  was  en- 
tirely to  the  contrary.  Their  courtesy,  though  not  exube- 
rant, I  found  both  ready  and  cordial.  True,  as  I  have  said, 
their  manners  are,  in  general,  reserved,  and  their  speech  is 
laconic,  but  the  ice  is  soon  broken,  and  their  intelligence  and 
general  cleverness  repay  the  trouble,  amply.  The  Catalan 
is  no  favorite  with  his  brethren  of  the  other  provinces.  They 
have  sundry  hard  names  for  him,  which  are  more  expressive 
than  delicate.  Cerrado  como  pie  de  mula  (contracted,  close, 
like  a  mule's  hoof),  is  the  proverbial  phrase  into  which  they 
have  compressed  their  idea  of  his  character.  John  Bull  too, 
has  his  say  in  the  premises.  The  Catalans,  according  to  his 
notion,  are  selfish ;  greedy  of  gain  and  monopoly ;  fierce  foes 
to  that  glorious  system  of  free-trade,  of  which  England  is 
now  the  Apostle  to  the  Custom-house  Gentiles,  and  which, 
sooner  or  later,  is  to  be  rounded  with  some  sort  of  a  Mil- 
lennium. John  Bull,  therefore,  denounces  them,  in  all  the 
terms,  measured  and  unmeasured,  which  such  heterodoxy  on 
their  part  deserves,  and  when  his  wrath  is  especially  kindled, 
as  some  pet  Spanish  scheme  of  his  falls  through,  he  wreaks 
himself  upon  expression,  and  calls  them  the  "  Yankees  of 
Spain."  In  all  his  endeavors  to  negotiate  commercial  trea- 
ties, and  break  down  the  restrictive  system  which  the  Cata- 
lans particularly  affect,  he  is  influenced,  he  gives  you  his 
honor,  by  none  but  the  most  benevolent  and  unselfish  con- 


38  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

siderations.  France  may  have  some  motives  of  her  own  in 
pulling  down  Espartero  and  putting  up  Narvaez,  but  En- 
gland looks  only  to  the  happiness  of  Spain,  in  keeping  Nar- 
vaez down,  or  keeping  up  Espartero.  What  matter  can 
such  things  be  to  England  ?  If  she  can  not  import  through 
the  Custom-house,  she  can  smuggle  in  spite  of  it,  and  there- 
fore it  is  all  the  same  to  her,  in  point  of  fact,  whether  she 
has  treaties  or  not.  "It  is  a  mere  question  of  morality," 
(Blackwood,  vol.  xxv.,  p.  723) ;  but  then  John  Bull  is  a 
famous  stickler  for  that,  as  every  body  knows. 

The  Catalans,  upon  their  side,  say  that  the  world  is  too 
old,  for  people  with  beards  on  their  chins  to  believe,  that 
nations  send  embassadors  about  the  globe,  on  crusades  of 
disinterested  benevolence.  Bailan  al  son  que  tocan,  is 
an  old  Castilian  proverb.  If  people  dance,  it  is  because 
there  is  some  music.  Mr.  Cobden  had  passed  through  Spain 
but  a  short  time  before  my  visit,  and  the  free-trade  enthusi- 
asm was  in  full  blast  in  consequence.  The  Propagador,  a 
newspaper  of  Cadiz,  was  especially  devoted  to  the  dissemina- 
tion of  the  anti-custom-house  faith.  Mr.  Bulwer's  paper, 
the  Espanol,  of  Madrid,  was  full  of  most  demonstrative 
articles,  in  which  it  was  satisfactorily  proven,  by  facts  and 
figures,  that  free-trade  would  bring  back,  permanently,  to 
the  Peninsula,  days  as  golden  as  when  her  western  mines 
were  fresh.  The  Catalans  and  the  protective  politicians 
generally,  used  to  shrug  their  shoulders,  and  wonder  whether 
the  case  would  be  made  out  half  so  clearly,  if  the  Ingleses 
had  not  an  interest  in  the  market,  as  well  as  the  logic.  Free- 
trade,  they  said,  was  a  good  text  to  preach  from,  after  a 
nation  had  so  perfected  her  manufactures,  as  to  find  her 
surest  monopoly  in  freedom.  They  thought  it  odd  that 
Great  Britain  should  never  have  proclaimed  free-trade  in 
the  produce  of  her  soil,  till  her  own  people  were  starving,  or 
have  encouraged  it  in  her  manufactures,  till  she  was  able  to 
starve  other  people.  When  you  laughed  at  the  absurdities 
to  which  their  protective  system  led  them,  they  would  ask 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 


if  you  could  find  any  thing  among  their  tariffs  which  went 
quite  so  far  as  the  English  statute  requiring  the  dead  to  be 
buried  in  woolen,  for  the  benefit  of  shepherds  and  wool-deal- 
ers. If  you  told  them  that  prohibition  produced  smuggling, 
they  replied  that  it  would  be  quite  as  logical  to  charge  any 
other  laws  with  producing  their  own  violation.  Give  them 
the  British  doctrine  (or  at  least  Blackwood's),  that  "  the 
smuggler  is  the  father  of  the  highwayman,"  and  they  would 
ask  you  your  opinion  of  the  foreign  speculator,  whose  cupidity 
was  father  to  the  smuggler,  and  who  was  thus,  in  the 
ascending  line,  only  two  degrees  removed  from  the  thief. 
If  England  (they  would  say)  wished  to  stand  on  the  plat- 
form of  morality,  she  should  first  give  up  the  contraband 
trade.  They  could  see  no  reason  to  trust  her,  till  she  should 
grow  moral  at  her  own  expense. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  a  good  deal  in  this,  and 
Great  Britain  must  manage  to  tear  out  many  pages  of  her 
history,  before  she  can  persuade  people  not  to  think  so.  Yet 
who  would  blame  her  policy,  as  either  unwise  or  unjust,  in 
promoting,  by  all  reasonable  means,  the  development  and 
prosperity  of  those  great  interests  which  have  sprung  from 
her  genius,  industry,  and  enterprise,  if  she  could  only  stop 
canting  about  philanthropy  and  benevolence  ;  honestly  con- 
fess what  she  has  no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of,  and  cease 
presenting  herself  before  the  world,  like  Tom  Moore's  saint, 

"  With  his  pockets  on  earth,  and  his  nose  in  heaven." 

Besides,  what  difference  should  it  make  to  Spain,  that 
England  seeks  benefit  from  commercial  treaties  or  low  tariffs  ? 
Does  it  follow  that  because  she  will  gain  from  them,  Spain 
will  not  ?  Is  there  no  such  thing  as  profitable  and  honorable 
reciprocity?  It  is  impossible  for  any  intelligent  and  disin- 
terested man  to  doubt,  that  the  present  Spanish  system  of 
tariffs  on  imports  is  absurd,  in  both  its  impositions  and  re- 
strictions. Bad  as  it  is,  it  is  not  half  carried  out,  so  that  it 
does  little  else  but  thwart  and  nullify  itself,  which  is  pretty 


40  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

fair  proof  of  folly.  I  went  into  a  shop  on  the  Rambla,  at 
Barcelona,  and  asked  the  price  of  some  French  wares,  the 
high  charge  for  which  astonished  me  so  much,  that  I  remon- 
strated. The  good  woman  told  me  that  what  I  said  was 
very  true,  "  Mas  que  quiere  vmd.  ?  What  will  your  worship 
have  us  do?  It  is  impossible  to  get  prohibited  goods  into 
the  city,  without  paying  at  least  seventy  per  cent,  on  their 
value  to  the  smuggler."  "  But  is  it  possible,"  I  asked, 
"that  all  these  goods  are  prohibited  ?  Your  window  is  full 
of  them,  and  the  officers  of  the  customs  pass  here  at  all 
hours."  "  No  hay  duda,  senor — there's  no  doubt  of  that. 
Under  the  old  system  they  would  perhaps  have  given  me 
some  trouble,  but  now  that  we  have  a  constitution,  the  house 
of  the  citizen  is  inviolable.  Once  get  your  goods  into  the 
house,  and  there  is  an  end  of  the  business.  There  is  scarcely 
a  shop  on  the  Rambla  that  is  not  full  of  prohibited  goods." 

The  shopkeeper's  constitutional  law  was  certainly  a  very 
liberal  expansion  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  notion,  that  a  man's 
house  is  his  castle,  but  that  her  statement  did  not  exaggerate 
the  quantity  of  smuggling,  I  have  the  best  authority  for  be- 
lieving, and  that,  too,  not  merely  in  regard  to  those  valuable 
articles  of  luxury  which  can  be  easily  transported  and  con- 
cealed, but  to  the  most  bulky  objects  of  familiar  and  neces- 
sary use.  According  to  the  most  accurate  accounts,  from 
three-fourths  to  seven-eighths  of  the  foreign  articles  consumed 
in  Spain  pass  through  the  hands  of  the  contrabandists.  En- 
gland and  France — rivals,  or  at  all  events  competitors,  in 
most  things — struggle  more  earnestly  for  no  mastery,  than 
for  that  in  cheating  the  Spanish  revenue.  Arcades  anibo! 
But  this  is  not  the  worst.  The  very  Catalan  manufacturers, 
who  clamor  most  loudly  for  the  perpetuation  of  the  tariff, 
are  themselves,  frequently,  the  chief  smugglers.  I  was  as- 
sured by  many  Spaniards  familiar  with  the  facts,  that  a  very 
large  portion  of  the  goods,  sold  from  the  factories  of  Catalonia 
into  the  other  provinces,  are  actually  manufactured  and 
marked  as  Catalonian,  in  England,  smuggled  into  Barcelona, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  41 

and  there  disposed  of  triumphantly,  as  the  genuine  thing,  by 
the  very  best  houses.  One  gentleman  told  me,  that  in  one 
of  the  English  manufacturing  towns,  he  had  been  shown 
a  ware-room  of  orthodox  Catalan  goods,  made  and  marked 
in  the  most  Spanish  manner,  for  the  Barcelonese  home-pro- 
duction, by  the  order  of  one  of  the  largest  manufacturing 
concerns  there,  than  whose  members  none  clamored  more 
loudly  for  protection  !  A  man  must  be  either  interested  or 
mad  nor'-nor'-west,  to  have  any  serious  doubts  as  to  the  pro- 
priety of  upsetting  a  system  which  has  such  consequences. 
The  people  of  the  whole  Peninsula  are  saddled  with  a  tax 
of  near  one  hundred  per  cent,  on  the  most  of  the  comforts 
and  conveniences  of  life.  The  government  is  compelled  to 
provide  an  army  of  custom-house  officers  and  troops,  at  an 
expense  which,  though  insufficient  to  insure  their  fidelity,  is 
still  enormous,  in  the  state  of  the  treasury.  Cui  bono? 
The  home  manufacture  is  not  benefited,  as  is  the  pretext  ; 
for  the  system  furnishes  both  temptation  and  facility  to  the 
manufacturers  themselves,  to  substitute  the  foreign  article  for 
their  own.  The  public  revenue  is  no  gainer,  for  scarce  any 
one  does  it  reverence.  Whose  is  the  crop,  then?  It  fattens 
the  faithless  and  corrupt  official ;  the  daring,  desperate  con- 
trabandist; the  unprincipled  speculator,  foreign  or  domestic. 
The  honest  industry,  the  agriculture  of  the  country,  sows 
and  tills  :  the  plunderers  reap.  And  that  is  not  all.  Ve- 
nality and  bribery,  running  in  the  channels  of  enterprise, 
must  poison  the  waters.  Public  honor  and  private  integrity 
must  be  weakened.  The  laws  must  needs  fall  into  contempt, 
when  the  people  have  before  them,  daily,  the  demoralizing 
spectacle  of  their  sale  and  deliberate  violation.  Every  prin- 
ciple of  public  policy  calls  for  change.  Not  for  free- trade, 
however,  yet  awhile.  One  extreme  is  no  panacea  for  the 
evils  entailed  by  the  other.  Spain  has  had  experience  enough, 
both  of  domestic  restrictions  which  started,  and  foreign  sup- 
plies which  precipitated  the  downfall  of  her  industrial  pros- 
perity. She  has  known  something,  too,  of  the  benefit  of 


42  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

judicious  protection.  Charles  V.  carried  home  from  Flanders 
some  Flemish  experience  and  prudence  to  profit,  as  well  as 
Flemish  favorites  to  curse  the  nation.  The  enlightened 
administrations  of  Alberoni  and  Florida-Blanca ;  the  wise 
counsels  of  Ustariz,  Campomanes,  Jovellanos,  and  Canga- 
Argiielles,  ought  not  to  be  forgotten  either,  if  she  would 
take  advantage  of  the  lessons  of  her  own  history. 

There  exists  already  in  Catalonia  and  Valencia  :  there  ia 
growing  up  in  Seville,  Cadiz,  Malaga,  and  other  portions  of 
the  kingdom,  a  manufacturing  industry,  large,  real,  and  sub- 
stantial, which  no  sound  legislation  would  surrender  to  the 
mercies  of  an  indiscriminate  foreign  competition.  It  is  worth 
protecting,  because  it  is  the  natural  growth  of  time,  circum- 
stances, local  advantages  and  adaptation,  and  the  ability  and 
bent  of  the  people.  Much  capital  is  invested  in  it,  and  much 
labor  lives  from  it.  In  Barcelona,  I  learned  that  of  cotton 
alone,  the  average  daily  consumption  accounted  for  is  fifty 
bales,  the  year  round,  exclusive  of  that  which  is  manufac- 
tured in  other  busy  districts  of  the  province.  Of  silk  and 
wool,  the  quantity  which  enters  into  the  fabrics,  not  merely 
of  Catalonia,  but  of  the  other  manufacturing  provinces,  is, 
according  to  the  most  moderate  statistics,  very  heavy  ;  al- 
though comparatively  small,  when  we  remember  that,  even 
in  the  fifteenth  century,  the  single  city  of  Toledo  gave  em- 
ployment to  ten  thousand  workers  in  those  staples,  and  that 
Granada,  Segovia,  Valencia,  and  Barcelona,  under  the  Cath- 
olic monarchs,  were  rivals  in  the  production  which  fed  to 
overflowing  the  teeming  commerce  of  Spain.  In  many 
fabrics  the  Spanish  manufacturer  has  attained  great  excel- 
lence. Of  his  capacity  to  improve,  to  any  extent,  under  a 
system  which  will  foster  his  industry  and  stimulate  his  in- 
genuity, the  records  of  the  past  give  as  sure  evidence,  as  his 
present  progress  under  so  many  disadvantages.  In  natural 
quickness,  dexterity  and  tact,  he  is,  by  all  odds,  the  superior 
of  the  English  peasant.  He  is,  moreover,  temperate  and 
frugal  to  a  proverb.  A  fine  climate  supplies,  prodigally, 


QLCMPSB8  OF  SPAIN.  43 

all  that  his  simple  appetites  require,  and  reduces  to  almost 
nothing,  in  many  parts  of  the  Peninsula,  the  outlay  for  those 
humble  comforts,  which,  elsewhere,  consume  the  whole  of 
the  earnings  of  the  operative.  You  do  not  see,  in  the  Span- 
ish manufacturing  districts,  nor,  indeed,  in  any  part  of  the  Pen- 
insula that  I  visited,  the  squalid  wretchedness  which  haunts 
the  British  loom.  Drunkenness,  its  chief  element,  does  not 
exist  at  all,  as  a  popular  habit,  in  Spain,  not  even  in  Anda- 
lusia, where  the  people  are  most  prone  to  what  they  call  excess. 
There  is,  then,  every  reason  why  their  home-manufacture, 
where  it  is  a  natural,  or  has  become  a  radicated  interest, 
should  be  protected  and  preserved,  and  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that,  with  ordinary  liberality  and  sagacity,  treaties 
might  be  made  or  a  system  organized,  providing  for  the  in- 
troduction of  foreign  fabrics,  at  such  rates  of  duty  as  would 
break  up  smuggling,  and  give  to  all  the  home-industry  worth 
preserving,  a  living  profit  without  monopoly.  As  the  first 
step,  it  would  not  be  ill,  were  they  to  permit  the  raw  mate- 
rial (cotton  for  instance),  to  be  imported  directly  from  the 
place  of  its  production,  without  the  nonsense  of  sending  it 
first  to  a  Spanish  colony  to  be  "matriculated,"  as  they  call 
it,  or,  in  other  words,  to  be  clogged  with  impositions  which 
must  hamper  the  Spanish  manufacturer,  and  be  paid,  at  last, 
by  the  Spanish  consumer.  Jonathan,  who  has  some  interest 
in  this,  might  press  it  home  upon  the  Spanish  rulers  with 
some  show  of  a  right  to  be  listened  to,  for  he  has  never 
smuggled  his  bales  in  upon  them,  or  talked  to  them  of 
"morality,"  while  he  plundered  their  revenue.  The  material 
thus  cheapened,  a  tariff  upon  imports,  reasonably  protective 
and  no  more,  would,  in  a  few  years,  place  the  home-manu- 
facture above  the  reach  of  legislative  interference.  It  would 
diminish,  and  in  time  remove  altogether,  the  burden  which 
now  galls  the  whole  population  of  consumers.  It  would  dis- 
band the  venal  army  of  office-holders,  who  now  gnaw  the 
nation's  vitals,  and  in  whose  corruption  and  intrigue  are  the 
elements  of  those  unceasing  changes,  which  are  forever  shift- 


44  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

ing  the  nation's  policy,  and  wasting  her  substance.  It  would 
turn  a  stream  of  treasure  into  the  empty  coffers  of  the  state. 
It  would  foster  agriculture,  by  lightening  its  load,  and  creat- 
ing a  demand  for  its  products.  New  markets,  springing  up 
at  home,  would  require  new  roads,  new  facilities  for  internal 
communication.  The  ports  of  the  Peninsula  would  be  filled 
with  commerce  long  departed.  The  trade,  which  now  skulks, 
in  small  feluccas  and  misticas,  into  midnight  coves  and  secret 
rendezvous,  would  carry  wealth  and  life  into  the  noble 
harbors  now  all  empty.  It  would  revive  a  mercantile 
marine,  whose  boldness  and  skill  adorn  the  proudest  annals 
of  discovery.  It  would  bring  the  languishing  vitality  of  the 
nation  into  contact  with  the  freshness  of  other  nations,  which 
have  flourished  under  the  influence  of  better  fortune  and 
more  genial  institutions.  It  would  liberalize  and  enlighten 
the  people,  and  through  them,  their  government,  and  would 
go  far  toward  awakening,  in  both,  a  sense  of  the  duties  that 
are  imposed  on  them,  by  the  possession  of  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  teeming  lands  that  the  sun  visits  in  its  course. 
There  was  a  discourse  delivered,  in  1841,  before  the 
Lyceum  of  Granada,  by  Don  Javier  de  Burgos,  in  which 
the  ideas  which  I  have  presented,  lightly — and  as  he  who 
runs  may  write,  for  him  who  runs  to  read — are  enforced,  with 
a  degree  of  eloquence  and  statesmanlike  ability,  which  would 
do  honor  to  any  legislative  assembly  on  either  side  of  the 
water.  In  the  wisdom  and  moderation  of  the  counsels 
which  the  orator  recommends,  it  would  seem  that  a  govern- 
ment, with  either  patriotism  or  capacity,  would  find  the 
surest  guarantee  of  national  progress  and  prosperity.* 

*  It  is  gratifying  to  know  that  the  efforts  of  men  like  Burgos  have  not 
been  altogether  ineffectual.  Since  this  chapter  was  written,  the  Cortes 
of  1849  have  promulgated  a  modified  tariff — the  first  movement  toward 
a  more  intelligent  and  statesmanlike  system.  The  minister,  Mon,  by 
whose  energy  its  enactment  was  secured,  is  himself  a  Catalan,  and 
there  is  therefore  room  for  improvement  in  his  notions;  but,  on  the 
whole,  the  new  law  has  features  of  great  compai-ative  liberality,  and 
its  passage  is  an  epoch,  from  which  the  downfall  of  restrictive  absurd- 
ities and  their  evils  are  destined  to  be  dated. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Education  in  Catalonia — The  Press — The  Gaye  Science — Departure 
for  Valencia — The  Coast — Spanish  Travelers  and  Politics — The 
Tartana — Valencia — The  Vega — The  Market-place — Costume  and 
Cleanliness  of  the  People — Table-luxuries  of  Europe  and  the 
Western  Continent — M.  Dumas — Public  Buildings — The  Cid  and 
the  Church-bells. 

LIKE  all  long-established  mercantile  communities,  Barce- 
lona is  the  center  of  a  busy  movement  in  favor  of  diffused 
education,  and  one  of  the  most  gratifying  sights  to  a  traveler 
is  the  number  of  schools  and  academies  scattered  through  the 
city.  A  correct  and  intelligent  observer  (Capt.  Widdring- 
ton)  writes,  in  1832  ;  "The  means  of  education  are  ample, 
and  probably,  according  to  the  official  returns,  equal  to  those 
of  any  other  part  of  Europe.  There  are  eight  hundred  and 
thirty-nine  schools  in  the  province  which  educate  forty 
thousand  scholars ;  seventy  of  them  teaching  the  Latin 
tongue."  Since  that  period,  happily,  the  number  of  both 
schools  and  scholars  has  been  largely  on  the  increase.  The 
press  is  active,  too,  and  is  constantly  sending  forth  excellent 
editions,  not  merely  of  new  works  as  they  appear,  but  of  the 
standard  classics  of  the  language.  The  Barcelonese  publica- 
tions and  reprints  are  in  considerable  demand  throughout  the 
kingdom,  as  they  are  both  neat  and  cheap  :  but  the  critics 
make  themselves  merry  over  the  most  of  the  translations  of 
the  Catalans,  and  indeed  over  their  original  productions,  gener- 
ally, whether  in  the  shape  of  books,  commentaries,  or  prefaces. 
They  are  always  sensible  and  often  learned,  but  the  elegance 
of  the  Castilian  is  said  to  suffer  in  their  hands.  Indeed  a 
stranger,  moderately  familiar  with  the  best  models,  may  be 


46  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

pardoned  for  supposing  that  he  can  frequently  perceive  the 
justice  of  the  criticism. 

"  It  is  not,  now,  as  it  hath  been  of  yore.15 

Time  was,  when  Catalonian  doctors  of  the  gaye  science 
were  wont  to  sit  in  judgment  on  Castilian  bards  of  highest 
note.  I  have  before  me  the  record  of  a  poetical  tilting 
match  (justa  poetica)  which  came  off  at  Barcelona,  in  the 
Monastery  of  Jerusalem,  in  the  Easter-times  of  1580.  The 
Muse  Calliope  (Heaven  help  her !)  extended  invitations  in 
Limousin,  and  the  theme  was  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul. 
The  champions  were  at  liberty  to  choose  their  own  weapons, 
Latin,  Catalonian,  or  Castilian  verse.  Fray  Luis  de  Leon, 
the  greatest  of  the  Spanish  lyric  poets,  and  one  of  whom  any 
literature  might  be  proud,  was  the  successful  candidate  in 
Castilian.  Rebolledo,  Gil  Polo  and  others  of  no  trifling 
name  were  his  competitors,  and,  though  defeated,  won  so 
much  applause,  that  each  was  rewarded  for  his  immortal 
efforts  with — a  pair  of  dressed  leather  gloves !  Is  it  a 
wonder,  after  that,  that  any  self-respecting  Muse,  Castilian 
or  Castalian,  should  revenge  herself  forever  on  all  of  Cata- 
lonian blood. 

Wednesday,  April  7 — We  were  early  on  board  the 
Barcino,  but  it  was  full  half-past  nine,  before  we  were  rid 
of  the  motley  crowd  of  carabineros  and  idlers,  whom  our 
approaching  departure  had  gathered  together.  I  can  not 
say  that  I  felt  at  all  distressed,  when  the  tinkling  of  the 
little  bell  admonished  our  white-headed  English  engineer  to 
set  his  machinery  in  motion.  I  was  tired  of  Barcelona,  for 
reasons,  not  very  satisfactory,  perhaps,  in  the  abstract,  but 
altogether  so  to  me.  The  Fonda  was  chilly,  dirty,  and 
unsavory ;  the  weather  was  cold  and  blustering,  and  I  was 
an  invalid,  tired  of  vain  seeking  after  genial  sunshine  and 
balmy  breezes.  With  any  thing,  therefore,  but  reluctance, 
I  saw  the  waves  beat  on  the  beach  as  we  rode  gallantly 
away  beneath  Montjuich,  and  watched  the  city,  till,  like  a 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 


beautiful  white  wreath,  it  sank  upon  the  bosom  of  the  sea 
Then  Montserrat  appeared,  and  disappeared,  and  came  again, 
combing  the  fleecy  clouds  with  its  crest  of  innumerable 
pinnacles ;  and  through  a  gap  we  now  and  then  might  see 
a  spur  of  the  snowy,  far-off  Pyrenees.  The  breeze,  though 
brisk,  was  not  troublesome,  and  so  I  sate  on  deck  all  day, 
enjoying  the  glimpses  of  white  towns  sparkling  here  and 
there  upon  the  arid  surface  of  the  hills  ;  or  watching  the 
graceful  sweep  of  the  feluccas  and  mystics  and  other  lateen 
sailed  vessels,  farther  out  at  sea.  Toward  evening  we 
passed  abreast  of  the  Ebro,  and  wondered  at  the  sudden 
change  of  the  waters,  from  blue  to  green  or  greenish, 
which  marked  the  tribute  paid  by  this  great  river  to  the 
Mediterranean. 

We  had  parted,  at  Barcelona,  with  our  friends,  the 
marquis  and  the  philosophical  Frenchman,  and  had  been 
reinforced  by  a  company  of  Spaniards,  mostly  from  the 
south,  who  made  themselves  very  merry  with  the  lieutenant 
and  his  spy-glass,  and  with  a  little  Catalonian  doctor,  who  had 
just  written  a  pamphlet  on  the  mineral  waters  of  la  Puda, 
near  Barcelona,  and  was  starting  on  a  journey  of  speculation, 
to  excite  some  interest  in  behalf  of  his  sulphur.  As  the 
clear  night  set  in,  they  gathered  in  a  group  by  the  ship's  side 
and  talked  politics — a  subject,  under  the  circumstances, 
particularly  interesting,  even  to  one  who  had  come  from  a 
country  where  there  is  never  any  stint  in  the  domestic 
article.  One  and  all  seemed  to  bewail  the  absence  of  what 
they  called  Espanolismo — Spanish  spirit — among  their 
rulers.  The  people,  they  thought  well  and  liberally  enough 
disposed — patriotically,  too — but  their  leaders,  and  especially 
the  army-officers  who  moved  the  springs  of  government, 
they  all  concurred  in  branding  as  a  pack  of  sorry  knaves, 
most  of  whom  oould  be  won  to  any  policy  by  a  few  crosses 
and  pesetas.  They  accounted,  very  sensibly,  for  the  cor- 
ruption among  the  officers  of  the  customs,  by  referring  to 
the  fact,  that  the  ordinary  carabineros  receive  but  six  reals 


48  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

(thirty  cents)  per  day,  on  which  it  is  a  known  and  obvious 
fact  that  they  can  not  live.  They  are  compelled,  therefore, 
to  "  take  provoking  gold"  in  order  to  keep  soul  and  body 
together.  Smuggling,  however  (they  said)  had  greatly 
diminished  since  the  introduction  of  steam-vessels  as  guarda- 
costas,  and  the  appointment,  to  their  command,  of  officers  of 
the  navy,  who  are  generally  men  of  higher  tone  and  charac- 
ter. The  navy  itself  (they  told  me)  was  increasing  steadily 
though  slowly.  A  lieutenant,  who  was  in  the  company, 
said  that  its  demands  were  beyond  the  actual  supply  of 
officers.  This  fiery  young  gentleman  was  quite  radical  in 
his  notions  as  to  the  mode  of  reforming  existing  abuses,  for 
he  made  bold  to  say,  that  until  Spain  should  have  gone 
through  a  revolution  like  that  of  France,  with  a  practical 
application  of  the  guillotine  to  one  half  of  the  high  heads, 
there  would  be  no  permanent  change  for  the  better.  The 
Catalan  doctor  seemed  to  think,  on  the  whole,  that  he  would 
prefer  the  continuance  of  the  contraband  trade,  to  so  execu- 
tive a  remedy.  When  I  went  to  sleep,  they  had  no^  settled 
the  question. 

I  mounted  the  deck,  next  morning,  as  we  were  passing 
Murviedro,  the  ancient  city  of  Saguntum.  Far  off  as  wo 
were,  we  could  still  easily  discern  the  battlements  which 
frowned  upon  the  hill  above  it,  and  there  was  around  them 
a  curtain  of  the  morning-mist,  which  might  well  have  sug- 
gested the  dust  or  smoke  of  the  sieges  that  have  made  it 
immortal.  For  an  hour  and  a  half  we  ran  down  the  Valen- 
cian  coast,  a  thickly  settled  one,  studded  with  villages,  towns, 
and  isolated  dwellings ;  the  mountains  of  the  interior,  shroud- 
ed as  they  were  in  vapor,  forming  a  beautiful  light  back- 
ground, to  the  darker  verdure  and  more  varying  surface  of 
the  immediate  borders  of  the  sea.  As  we  drew  in,  about 
half-past  eight,  to  the  open  roadstead  of  Grao,  the  port  of 
Valencia,  the  sun  was  shining  gayly  on  the  white  buildings 
of  the  little  town,  and  streaming,  with  a  somewhat  graver 
light,  over  the  more  distant  and  somber  buildings  of  the  city, 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  49 

with  its  many  and  so  different  towers.  Seaward,  a  host  of 
little  fishing-smacks,  with  triangular  sails,  were  flapping, 
like  curlews,  over  the  water.  Some  feluccas  were  steering 
into  harbor,  a  little  in  advance  of  us,  and  a  fine  guarda-costa, 
stretching  across  our  bow,  dropped  anchor  as  we  stopped'  our 
engine.  The  distant  and  dimly-seen  outline  of  the  prominent 
coast  before  us  ;  the  lazy  vessels  at  anchor  inside  the  mole  ; 
the  sluggish  waves  which  scarce  whitened  as  they  broke  upon 
the  beach,  and  more  than  all,  the  hazy  morning,  bursting  at 
that  moment  into  perfect  sunlight,  made  a  scene  for  the 
memory  as  well  as  for  the  eye.  Our  revolutionary  lieuten- 
ant of  the  night  before  was  in  raptures  beyond  all  of  us ; 
but  it  was  because  the  revenue  mistica,  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  was  commanded  by  a  friend  of  his,  and  he  felt 
morally  certain  he  should  have  a  day  of  it. 

The  health-officers  were  soon  on  board,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  my  two  countrymen,  the  little  Catalan  Galen, 
and  I,  found  ourselves,  by  invitation  of  the  captain,  in  a 
launch  with  him,  on  our  way  to  the  pier  of  Grao.  It  was 
a  short  journey  to  our  expert  oarsmen,  and  a  few  moments 
planted  us  in  the  center  of  a  group  of  tartana  drivers,  all 
violently  disposed  to  take  us  captive.  The  sturdy  captain, 
however,  swore  all  things  to  rights  without  delay,  and  wound 
up  by  pushing  us  very  civilly  into  the  vehicle,  which  was  to 
bear  his  honored  bones  to  the  office  of  the  company.  A 
tartana,  simply  and  without  rhetoric,  is  a  decent,  covered 
cart,  set  directly  on  the  axle,  without  spring,  strap,  or  other 
shock-breaking  apparatus.  It  has  an  eliptical  leathern  top ; 
a  seat  down  each  side,  like  an  omnibus  ;  and,  with  one 
horse,  will  carry  about  eight  people.  The  driver  sits  out- 
side, en  the  right-hand  shaft,  where  he  is  accommodated 
with  a  cushion  and  iron  stirrup.  The  passengers  mount 
behind,  and  are  shut  in,  like  loaves  in  an  oven.  The  interior 
of  our  vehicle  was  neatly  finished ;  the  harness  was  good  and 
glistening ;  and  even  the  ends  of  the  shafts  were  nicely  shod 
with  polished  brass ;  a  precaution,  by-the-by,  which  would 

C 


50  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

have  been  much  more  appropriate  and  intelligible,  if  the 
shafts  had  been  compelled  to  ride  in  their  own  carriage.  I 
will  do  our  driver  the  justice  to  say,  that  he  avoided,  as  far 
as  possible,  any  inconvenience  that  might  have  resulted  to 
us  from  rapid  motion,  and  that  his  horse  appeared  to  have 
been  educated  to  a  nice  perception  of  the  charities  befitting 
a  station,  which  gave  him  so  large  an  opportunity  of  reveng- 
ing wrongs  done  to  his  kind.  Passing  through  the  town 
and  gates  of  Grao,  a  glaring,  stuccoed  little  suburb,  we  were 
soon  on  our  way  to  the  city.  The  road  was  broad  and  level, 
with  fine  walks  for  foot-passengers  along  the  sides,  and  bor- 
dered with  luxuriant  trees.  There  had  obviously  been  no  rain 
for  a  long  while,  for  the  dust  was  very  deep,  and  yet  every 
vegetable  production  round  us,  from  the  tallest  tree  to  the 
most  trifling  flower,  seemed  to  have  drunk  its  fill,  from  the 
innumerable  canals  and  deposits  of  water  which  a  perfect 
system  of  irrigation  had  provided.  As  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  the  plain  was  green,  almost  to  rankness,  with  the 
spring  grain.  Here  and  there,  groves  of  mulberry  and  trop- 
ical fruit-trees  broke  in  upon  the  sameness  of  the  level.  A 
half  hour's  ride  carried  us  into  Valencia. 

On  our  way  up — after  crossing  the  river  by  a  high  old 
bridge,  massive  and  solid — we  had  gone  over  broad  ways, 
along  by  fine  large  buildings.  We  now  entered  narrow 
streets,  shut  in  between  close,  tall  houses,  the  mats  from 
whose  balconies  hung  down  over  poor  shops,  and  streets 
almost  without  pavement.  Our  first  excursion  was  to 
the  market-place — which  was  filled  with  peasants  dispos- 
ing of  their  wares.  I  was  surprised  at  finding  so  much 
resemblance  in  costume  to  that  of  Barcelona.  The  long 
red  woolen  cap,  common  to  the  Catalonians  and  the  God- 
dess of  Liberty,  was  the  chief  head-dress  of  the  crowd. 
It  was  only  here  and  there  we  saw  a  tall  fellow — gen- 
uinely Valencian  —  with  his  short,  wide,  white  trowsers, 
half-way  his  thighs  ;  his  knees  bare  ;  his  hose,  without  feet, 
— so  famous  as  the  proverbial  illustration  of  a  prodigal's 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  51 

purse — open  at  both  ends — and  his  hempen,  huge-soled 
sandals,  tied  on  with  colored  strings.  A  red  sash  was  gen- 
erally around  his  waist.  His  jacket,  if  he  wore  one,  was 
short  and  tight.  A  colored  cotton  handkerchief  was  about 
his  head,  and  a  manta,  now  and  then  of  lively  hues,  but 
generally  grayish  and  modest,  was  tossed  upon  his  shoulder, 
or  folded  round  him  like  a  cloak.  About  the  cut  and  the 
style  of  his  raiment,  doctors  in  such  matters  might,  perhaps, 
disagree,  but  the  perfect  and  almost  invariable  cleanliness 
and  whiteness  of  his  linen  were  above  criticism.  M.  Dumas 
says  it  is  one  of  the  rules  of  the  Spanish  custom-house,  to 
prohibit  a  man  from  entering  the  kingdom  with  any  thing 
in  his  luggage  but  "  old  clothes  and  dirty  linen."  I  will 
not  doubt  so  famous  a  traveler's  assertion,  especially  in  view 
of  the  fact,  that  a  restriction,  in  the  last-named  article,  would 
be  a  sort  of  prohibitive  duty  on  a  great  many  travelers  from 
a  sister  nation.  But,  be  the  comity  in  that  behalf  what  it 
may,  few  things  strike  a  stranger  more  decidedly,  than  the 
attention  paid,  in  Spain,  to  the  purity  of  the  linen,  not  only 
for  the  person,  but  for  bed  and  table  use.  Now  and  then, 
at  an  "  albergo,"  kept  by  a  wandering  Italian,  .or  some 
"grand  hotel,"  of  M.  Dumas'  countrymen,  you  will  have 
visions  of  Falstaff's  buck-basket,  mingled  with  your  enjoy- 
ment of  his  sherris-sack  ;  but,  among  the  Spaniards  them- 
selves, even  at  the  meanest  ventorrillo  on  the  hills,  if  you 
have  linen  at  all,  it  is  unimpeachable.  This  is  not  merely 
the  result  of  my  own  brief  experience.  I  often  heard  it 
talked  of  by  travelers  whom  I  met,  and  especially  by  the 
English,  who,  certainly,  are  competent  witnesses,  for,  with 
them,  untidiness  is  a  sin  and  love  of  neatness  runs  almost 
into  fanaticism. 

The  donkeys,  which  form  no  small  portion  of  the  grouping, 
in  the  market-places  of  southern  countries,  stood  loaded  in 
the  Plaza  of  Valencia,  with  all  manner  of  green  and  luxuri- 
ant vegetables.  Nor  did  any  reasonable  delicacy  of  land  or 
water  seem  to  be  wanting.  When  I  say  this,  I  speak,  of 


52  GLIMPSES  OF  SPA  IN. 

course,  of  what  is  called  reasonable,  in  the  way  of  delicacies, 
by  the  benighted  people  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  in 
view  of  the  moderate,  comparative  allowance,  which  it  has 
pleased  Providence  to  vouchsafe  to  them.  I  have  no  refer- 
ence to  the  large  inventory  of  good  things  which  prodigal  na- 
ture has  spread  out  before  those,  whose  lines  have  fallen  in 
the  pleasant  places  of  the  Western  Continent.  When  cook- 
ery, with  the  other  fine  arts,  shall  have  culminated  here,  as 
our  philosophers  of  destiny  have  proven  that  they  must,  what 
a  sphere  will  genius  find,  in  the  rich  abundance  of  raw  edible 
material !  What  would,  even  now,  be  the  consequence  to 
culinary  science,  if  the  Trois  Freres  of  the  Palais  Royal 
were  transported  to  the  margin  of  the  blessed  Chesapeake, 
wanting  only  its  Catullus,  far  to  transcend  the 

"Ora 

Hellespontia,  cseteris  ostreosior  oris  !" 

Who  would  speak,  save  with  commiseration,  of  the  Rocker 
de  Cancale  and  its  coppery  bivalves,  were  the  art  that  deals 
with  the  luscious  natives  of  the  "  Mill-Pond,"  a  worthy 
handmaiden  of  the  nature  that  bestows  them  ?  The  grand 
Vatel,  who  slew  himself,  in  despair  of  sea-fish  to  deck  a 
royal  feast  at  Chantilly — what  immortality  might  not  his 
genius  have  survived  to  win  for  him,  had  canvas-back  ducks 
but  fed  his  graver  meditations,  and  terrapins  and  soft-crabs 
beguiled  the  lighter  moments  of  his  fancy  !  What  more 
than  Le  Verrier  comets  would  he  not  have  discovered,  in  the 
regions  of  culinary  space  !  Even  Alexandre  Dumas — a  mere 
literary  man  —  simple  historiographer  of  the  Montpensier 
nuptials — never  known  to  fame,  for  his  capacity  to  cook  up 
aught  but  plays,  romances,  and  such  small  fry — even  he,  on 
a  wild  Spanish  highway,  was  able  so  to  conjure  an  "  Anglais" 
whom  he  met,  that  he  clung  to  him  "  as  a  shipwrecked  man 
to  a  plank  on  the  vast  ocean" — and  all  because  of  "  the  sub- 
lime idea  of  dressing  a  salad  without  oil  or  vinegar  !"  Ima- 
gine M.  Dumas  upon  his  travels  in  America — with  talents, 
such  as  this  incident  bespeaks,  devoted  to  the  development 


GLIMPSES  OP  SPAIN.  53 

of  any  one  of  the  thousand  luxuries  that  he  would  find, 
sprouting  all  wild  !  What  an  acquisition  to  the  aliment- 
iveness  of  posterity  would  be,  then,  his  "  Impressions  de 
Voyage  /" 

But  to  Valencia.  One  novelty — for  a  market-place,  at 
least — we  saw  there,  in  the  shape  of  sundry  large  baskets  of 
new-littered  puppies,  which  the  hucksters  strove  anxiously  to 
sell.  Whether  they  were  meant  for  the  uses  of  the  table  or 
the  drawing-room,  depended  upon  what  we  had  not  time  to 
learn — the  prevalence  of  the  Chinese  or  the  Anglo-Saxon 
civilization,  in  the  City  of  the  Cid.  Anglo-Saxon,  do  I  say  ? 
Let  me  be  impartial.  The  grande  nation,  too,  has  its  amia- 
ble weaknesses.  "  How  you  seem  to  love  the  little  fellow  !"  I 
took  the  liberty  of  saying  to  a  charming  Frenchwoman  of  no 
mean  station,  who,  with  her  spouse  and  spaniel,  occupied  the 
same  coupe  with  me,  from  Avignon  to  Marseilles.  "  Ah 
oui!"  she  answered,  "mais  qu'il  est  charmant !  Je  ne 
irien  separe  jamais."  And  she  hugged  and  kissed  the  little 
beast  until  he  squealed. 

Just  on  the  Plaza,  is  the  Lonja  de  Seda — the  Silk  Mart 
— a  beautiful  old  Gothic  building,  remarkable,  especially,  for 
the  loftiness  of  its  great  hall,  the  roof  of  which  is  supported 
upon  twisted  columns,  of  very  singular  construction  and 
great  elevation.  A  side-door  opens  from  the  hall,  upon  a 
sweet  little  garden,  carefully  tended,  and  shaded  with  or- 
ange trees.  In  the  Lonja  we  saw  some  fine  specimens  of 
the  native  raw  silk.  We  next  went  to  the  Cathedral — a 
large,  dark,  heavy  building,  but  utterly  unimpressive,  in  spite 
of  its  dimensions.  As  in  duty  bound,  we  ascended  its  famous 
tower — the  Micalete,  or  Miguelete,  as  it  is  called ;  at  the 
top  of  which,  and  high  over  a  chime  of  eleven  great  bells, 
hangs  the  greater  one,  called  the  vela,  the  sentinel  or  watch, 
which  regulates  the  seasons  of  irrigation  in  the  country 
round.  Valencia  has  always  been  proud  of  her  towers. 
Among  the  innumerable  ballads  of  the  Cid,  there  is  one  that 
tells  us,  how,  when  the  city  was  beleaguered  by  the  Chris- 


54  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

tian,  an  ancient  and  prophetic  Moor  went  up  a  lofty  tower, 
to  view  and  weep  over  the  beautiful  things  which  were  pass- 
ing away  from  his  people — 

"  Subiera  a  una  alta  torre 
Para  bien  la  contemplar" 

As  the  loveliness  of  the  prospect  grew  on  him,  so  grew  his 
sorrow — 

;'  Quanta  mas  la  mira  hermosa, 
Mas  le  crece  su  pesar." 

His  woes  were  not  dumb.  He  bewailed  the  fertilizing  river 
whose  fountains  were  to  be  dry  ;  the  green  fields  that  were 
to  be  in  waste  ;  the  flowers  that  were  to  be  fragrant  and 
beautiful  no  more  ;  but,  chief  of  all,  he  sorrowed  for  the 
bright  and  stately  towers,  that  were  fated  to  crumble  into 
dust. 

"  Las  tor  res  que  las  tus  gentes, 
De  lejos  suelen  mirar, 
Que  su  alteza  ilustre  y  clara, 
Les  solia  consolar." 

He  was  a  reasonable  infidel,  in  all  his  lamentations,  this 
"  Moro  viejo'"  if — to  say  nothing  of  the  towers — he  had  as 
beautiful  a  scene  before  him,  as  that  which  greeted  us,  the 
bright  spring  morning  of  our  visit.  Farther  than  the  eye 
could  reach,  from  the  glad  sea — 

"  Jlqud  honrado  provecho 
De  tu  play  a  y  de  tu  mar" 

up  to  the  distant  recesses  of  the  mountains,  the  Huerta  (or 
garden)  spread  its  green  expanse,  surpassed  in  extent  and 
fertility  by  few  plains  in  Europe.  The  Guadalaviar,  parent 
of  a  thousand  silver,  thread-like  streams,  held  in  its  net  of 
waters  all  this  wealth  of  verdure.  Scattered  cottages  peopled 
the  broad  meadows.  At  our  feet,  the  city  lay  close  and 
compact ;  its  large,  substantial  dwellings,  like  rows  of  for- 
tresses, scarce  separated,  to  the  eye,  by  the  narrow  avenues. 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  55 

Churches  there  were,  beneath  us,  innumerable.  When  the 
Cid  took  Dona  Jimena  and  her  daughters  up  in  the  Alcazar, 
to  show  them  the  tents  of  the  Moors  that  were  whitening 
the  plains,  he  promised  them,  by  way  of  quieting  their  fears, 
that  he  would  take  away  the  trumpets  that  the  infidels  had 
dared  to  sound  before  the  city,  and  give  them  to  the  service 
of  the  church : 

"  Serviran  para  la  iglesia 
Deste  pueblo  valenciano  /" 

Well  accoutered  and  bountifully,  with  their  implements  of 
noise,  the  heathen  surely  were,  if  the  Cid  redeemed  his 
promise,  and  the  recipients  of  his  pious  liberality  approached 
in  number,  those  that  lifted  their  turrets  at  our  feet  that 
day. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Pictures — The  Penitentiary — The  Women  of  Valencia — Alicante — 
Railway  Iron — The  Plaza — Mules — The  Post-boy — Manners — 
Night-view. 

HAVING  looked  our  fill  at  the  Huerta,  which  was  no  easy 
task,  and  having  done  the  same  at  the  Cathedral,  which 
was  no  difficult  one,  we  proceeded  to  the  Carmen,  a  sup- 
pressed convent,  full  of  bad  pictures — through  long  galleries 
of  which  we  were  compelled  to  wander,  before  we  reached 
the  few  master-pieces  that  are  collected  here,  from  the  works 
of  the  great  Valencian  painters.  Unlike  Seville,  Valencia 
has  parted  with  the  best  specimens  of  her  school,  to  strangers 
or  to  the  galleries  of  the  capital.  I  would  not  give  the  four 
fine  palms  which  shake  their  feathers  in  the  garden  of  the 
cloisters  of  the  Carmen,  for  all  the  canvas  on  the  inside  of 
the  walls. 

Our  walk  was  now  continued  up  the  Calle  de  los  caballe- 
ros,  where  we  did  our  best,  in  vain,  to  see  the  many  stylish 
buildings  of  which  the  guide-book  tells.  With  but  few 
exceptions,  the  edifices  of  Valencia,  public  and  private,  struck 
us  as  in  any  thing  but  commendable  taste.  The  palace  of 
the  captain-general  and  the  tobacco-manufactory  belonging 
to  the  government  are  stately,  spacious  buildings,  but,  like 
the  churches,  they  are  overloaded  with  stucco  and  the  wildest 
profusion  of  vicious  ornament.  The  private  residences  are 
huddled  and  blocked  together,  without  surrounding  or  inter- 
vening space,  and  although  ample  enough  in  their  dimensions, 
seem  to  have  been  constructed,  chiefly  with  a  view  to  keep 
the  heat  out  and  every  thing  else  in.  Though  containing  a 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  57 

larger  population,  and  surrounded  by  the  elements  of  greater 
wealth  than  Barcelona,  Valencia  shows  but  few  signs  of  the 
vigilant  and  prosperous  industry  which  so  gratified  us  among 
the  Catalans.  Her  trade  they  told  us  was  reviving  with 
her  manufactures,  and  a  railroad  to  Madrid  was  talked  of; 
but  I  fear  that  it  was  only  hope  and  gossip. 

Near  the  Puerta  San  Vicente,  after  a  long  walk  and 
tedious  search,  we  found  an  institution  of  which  we  had 
heard  a  good  deal  from  our  Spanish  fellow- travelers.  It 
was  the  Presidio  or  penitentiary.  It  is  a  large  and  well 
distributed  edifice,  once  a  convent  of  Augustine  monks,  and 
its  complete,  extensive,  and  admirable  arrangement  would 
do  no  discredit  to  any  nation.  I  confess  that  I  had  no 
expectation  of  seeing  any  such  thing  in  Spain.  The  guide- 
book (Murray's)  omits  it  altogether,  though  there  is  certainly 
nothing  half  so  interesting,  as  indicative  of  national  progress, 
within  the  limits  of  Valencia. 

The  Augustine  Convent  was  applied  to  its  present  uses  in 
1838.  It  now  contains  about  nine  hundred  prisoners  ;  and 
we  were  told  that  about  four  hundred,  confined  for  minor 
violations  of  the  law,  had  been  released  on  the  occasion  of 
the  queen's  marriage.  They  are  distributed  in  different 
chambers,  and  dedicated  to  various  branches  of  industry. 
Nearly  all  the  trades  are  represented.  Their  fabrics  of 
coarse  cotton  are  admirable,  and  they  work  successfully  in 
silks,  velvets,  and  fine  cutlery.  There  is  a  printing  press, 
at  which  work  is  done,  by  contract,  for  publishers  in  the  city. 
We  went  through  it,  and  found  the  devils  numerous  and 
busy.  Hard  by  was  the  bindery,  which  seemed  to  be  in 
considerable  demand.  The  infirmary  was  in  capital  order  ; 
clean,  airy,  and  well  distributed  ;  the  apothecary's  shop  and 
laboratory,  as  nice  and  complete  as  could  be  desired.  The 
dormitories  were  clean  to  a  degree  ;  each  man's  mat,  mat- 
tress, and  bed-clothing  hanging  over  the  spot  on  which  he 
was  to  spread  them  at  night.  Kitchen,  bakery,  garden, 
every  department  we  visited,  was  as  thoroughly  in  order  as 

c* 


58  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

the  most  vigilant  system  could  make  it.      The  discipline  is 
mild  but  strict.      There  is  not  an  armed  man  about  the  es- 
tablishment, and  the  keepers,  notwithstanding,  are  very  few. 
The  most  trustworthy  of  the  convicts  have  the  immediate 
superintendence  of  their  fellows.      A  lazy  rascal  is  put  to 
scrubbing  and  such  menial  work.      A  riot  or  quarrel  is  pun- 
ished with  a  severe  trouncing — obstinate  and  malicious  con- 
duct, with  solitude,  the  cell,  bread  and  water.      Few  cases, 
however,  occur,  requiring  punishment,  although,  certainly,  a 
set  of  more  unmitigated  rascals,  physiognomically  considered, 
never  went  unhung.      The  dread  of  being  removed  to  the 
galleys  or  the  chain-gang,  no  doubt,  keeps  them  in  order. 
They  seemed  all  of  them  to  be  well  fed.    I  saw  their  bread, 
which  is  coarse,  but  light  and  sound.      Meat  is  not  allowed 
them  every  day.      They  are  regularly  tasked,  day  by  day, 
and  are  paid  for  over-work.      All  under  eighteen  are  com- 
pelled, and  the  whole  of  them  are   encouraged,   to   go   to 
school,  where  they  are  taught  reading,  writing,   accounts, 
drawing,    and   geography.      I   went   into   the   school-room, 
which  is  a  fine,  spacious  apartment,  and  obviously  not  got- 
ten up  for  show,  for  it  had  all  the  marks  of  being  constantly 
in  use,  and  I  saw  some  excellent  specimens  of  writing  and 
drawing,  where  the  scholars  had  left  them.      There  is  a 
post-office,  regularly  kept  in  the  establishment,  and  all,  who 
conduct  themselves  well,  are  permitted  to  write  occasionally 
to  their  friends,  and  to  receive  their  replies.      Indeed,  the 
villains  seemed  very  happy,  for  they  were  at  work  in  the 
courts,  and  even  outside  the  walls,  some  of  them,  apparently, 
at  their  own  sweet  will,  but  without  attempt  or  visible  in- 
clination to  escape.      Valencia,  to  be  sure,  is  very  well  guard- 
ed, and  it  would  not  be  easy  for  a  fugitive  to  avoid  detection, 
long.      A  knowledge  of  this,  and  of  the  fact  that  the  eye  of 
the  keeper  is  always  upon  them,  from  some  certain  but  un- 
known point,  must  have  a  very  sedative  effect  upon  their 
locomotive  propensities.      When  at  work,  they  are  permitted 
Ito  converse,  in  a  low  tone.     This  is  an  extremely  rational 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  59 

concession  to  the  social  tendencies  of  human  nature,  which 
will  always  gratify  themselves  in  some  way,  let  the  prohibi- 
tion be  as  stringent  and  the  penalty  as  severe  as  it  may.  A 
distinguished  foreigner,  who  had  dedicated  great  intelligence 
and  powers  of  acute  observation,  to  the  examination  of  prisons 
and  their  discipline,  informed  me  lately,  that  he  had  never 
seen  any  contrivance  for  the  prevention  of  inter-communica- 
tion, which  the  ingenuity  of  the  convicts  had  not  been  able 
to  evade.  Questionable  then,  as  is  the  policy  of  perfect  isola- 
tion, at  the  best, — how  idle  is  the  attempt  to  realize  it,  when 
failure  is  certain  !  The  sensible  guide,  who  went  with  us 
through  the  Presidio,  attributed  a  great  deal  of  the  docility 
of  its  inmates,  and  the  frequent  cases  of  moral  improve- 
ment, to  the  humane  indulgences  which,  within  strict  limits, 
were  permitted  by  its  discipline.  I  persuaded  myself,  how 
justly  I  know  not,  that  to  this  moderate  treatment  was  due 
the  refreshing  absence  of  a  characteristic,  so  painfully  visible 
in  our  silent,  model-prisons  :  I  mean  the  pale,  attenuated 
faces,  whose  whole  expression  glares  on  you  through  the 
bright,  anxious  eyes,  condemned  to  fulfill  the  duties  of  sight, 
speech,  and  hearing.  As  we  passed  through  the  apartments, 
all  the  convicts  rose  and  stood  uncovered.  One  of  them,  a 
comb-maker,  had  a  tame  rat  upon  his  shoulder.  He  had 
made  a  collar  for  it,  with  little  bells,  which  the  creature 
wore.  Another  had  a  pet  bird  fluttering  around  him.  The 
manner  of  them  all,  to  the  keepers,  was  exceedingly  respect- 
ful— that  of  the  keepers,  considerate  and  kind.  Our  cicerone, 
who  seemed  to  have  both  pride  and  pleasure  in  our  approba- 
tion of  what  we  saw,  conducted  us,  finally,  to  a  show-house, 
connected  with  a  large  shop  at  the  gate,  where  there  were 
exhibited,  in  glass  cases,  some  specimens  of 'elegant  work- 
manship by  the  convicts ;  such  as  knives,  pistols,  embroidery, 
and  fancy  hardware.  My  companions  and  myself  made  our 
little  purchases,  and  went  away,  well  pleased  to  have  some 
memorials  of  an  institution,  so  excellent,  humane,  and  useful. 
As  the  gate  closed  on  us,  the  last  object  that  we  saw  was 


60  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

the  old  garden  of  the  cloisters,  with  its  orange  and  lemon- 
trees,  as  fair  and  fragrant  in  the  den  of  thieves,  as  once 
within  the  house  of  prayer.  A  lesson  there  may  be,  in  this 
impartial  bounty  of  our  mother  earth,  to  those  whom  men 
reverence  and  those  whom  they  despise.  It  teaches  us — 
does  it  not  ? — that,  with  a  comnon  nature,  there  are  none 
too  pure  and  virtuous  to  spurn  the  claims  of  the  wretched 
and  the  outcast.  Claims,  to  be  held  as  fellow-creatures  ; 
claims,  to  be  brought  back  from  sin  and  sorrow,  if  it  may  be ; 
claims,  that  ignorance  and  want  and  temptation  be  remem- 
bered, and  considered,  and  removed  ;  claims,  not  to  be  cast 
off  forever,  while  charity  can  nurse  the  hope  of  their  return ! 
Being,  by  this  time,  pretty  well  fatigued,  we  put  ourselves 
into  another  tartana  and  were  carted  to  the  Glorieta,  a 
beautiful,  extensive  promenade — whence  we  passed  to  the  new 
Alameda,  on  the  margin  of  the  Guadalaviar,  full  of  oranges, 
lemons,  and  many-scented  flowers.  Having  heard,  before 
we  went  to  Spain,  that  the  natives  would  not  consent  to  the 
introduction  of  gas  into  their  cities,  for  fear  of  earthquakes 
and  direful  explosions,  we  were  agreeably  surprised  to  find 
the  Glorieta  very  plentifully  supplied  with  pipes  and  burn- 
ers. These,  however,  which  were  to  give  light  by  night, 
did  nothing  to  remove  our  disappointment  at  missing  the 
glancing  eyes,  which,  we  had  been  told,  would  be  sure  to 
illuminate  the  day,  go  where  we  might  in  Valencia.  Not 
one  pretty  woman  nevertheless — not  a  solitary  representative 
of  Dona  Urraca, 

"  La  doncella  muy  fermosa," 

did  we  see  or  were  we  credibly  informed  of,  during  our  whole 
day's  walk.  And  yet  there  must  be  multitudes  of  beauties 
in  Valencia,  for  every  body  says  so.  Gauthier  and  Ford 
both  certify  to  the  fact ;  and  what  a  Frenchman  and  an 
Englishman  agree  on,  must  be  as  demonstrable  as  any  thing 
in  Euclid.  It  was,  doubtless,  only  our  misfortune,  that  all 
the  wingless  angels  kept  close  house  that  day.  A  very 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  61 

amiable  maiden,  who  sold  orchata  de  chufas,  a  well  iced 
and  refreshing  drink,  did  her  best  to  keep  us  in  good  humor, 
by  her  pleasant  chat,  but  it  can  not  be  denied  that  we  took 
our  return  tartana  in  a  temper  far  from  the  best,  and  when 
we  got  back  to  Grao,  were  glad  to  make  our  way  to  the 
steamer,  to  quarrel  with  our  fellow  travelers,  who  had 
promised  us  glimpses  of  Paradise.  It  was  sunset. 

Friday,  April  9. — I  went  on  deck  about  eight  this 
morning,  and  the  ship  was  lying  lazily  upon  the  water,  in  a 
fog.  As  we  could  see  to  do  nothing  with  certainty,  our 
wise  captain  had  magnanimously  resolved  to  lie  still  and 
wait.  It  was  not  until  between  nine  and  ten  that  the  mists 
began  to  curl  up,  and  disclosed  to  us,  first,  the  bleak,  arid 
summits,  and  then  the  still  more  arid-looking  sides,  of  the 
mountains  on  the  coast,  some  six  or  seven  miles  above  Ali- 
cante. In  due  time,  we  found  our  way  toward  that  most 
bleak  and  desolate-looking  of  cities,  distinguishing,  first,  the 
outline  of  its  castle,  and  then,  in  a  few  moments,  finding 
ourselves  in  the  open  roadstead,  with  the  whole  town  before 
us,  backed  up  against  the  base  of  a  grim,  somber,  sandstone- 
looking  hill,  high,  jagged,  and  rugged.  Houses  and  mount- 
ain are  all  of  the  same  color,  and  before  you  are  very  near, 
the  windows  of  the  dwellings  have  the  singular  effect  to  you, 
of  holes  burrowed  in  the  rock.  The  castle  crowns  and 
covers  almost  the  whole  summit  of  the  hill ;  its  little  turrets 
and  stone  sentry-boxes  actually  overhanging  the  precipice, 
and  looking  more  like  eagles'  nests,  than  places  for  men's 
feet.  All  the  way  down  and  along  the  hill,  stretch  walls 
and  communicating  fortifications,  of  the  same  unchanging 
hue.  To  an  unmilitary  eye,  the  fortress  seems  impregnable. 
As  for  the  town — the  citadel  could  keep  it  in  order,  by 
rolling  stones  down  on  the  people's  heads.  On  the  south, 
there  is  another  formidable  looking  fortification,  and  there 
are  walls,  too,  all  around  the  city ;  so  that,  supposing  Ali- 
cante to  be  worth  taking,  an  invader  must  make  up  his  mind 
to  have  patience  outside,  and  fortitude  if  he  should  ever  get 


62  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

in.  The  buildings  of  the  city  are  substantial — generally  of 
stone.  Where  there  is  stucco,  it  is  colored  to  match  the 
pervading  hue  of  sand.  None  of  the  public  edifices  have 
any  particular  merit,  in  point  of  architecture ;  although  the 
most  of  them  are  solid  and  spacious.  There  were  a  great 
many  new  buildings,  besides  others  in  progress  of  erection, 
and  obviously  the  city  was  improving,  both  in  appearance 
and  the  appliances  of  modern  convenience — though  I  was 
surprised  to  hear  that  its  commerce  was  decreasing.  There 
was  a  large  pile  of  rail- way  iron,  on  the  pier  when  we  landed, 
destined  for  the  road  between  Madrid  and  Aranjuez.  I 
hailed  the  sight  as  a  good  omen.  Once  let  these  iron-ties 
be  riveted  upon  the  land,  and  there  will  be  an  end  of  pro- 
nundamientos  and  back-stairs  revolutions.  People  will  find 
out  then,  that  a  great  nation  has  interests,  as  well  as  the 
jobbers  who  misgovern  it,  and  that  this  world  was  made  for 
something  besides  changes  of  ministry. 

The  population  of  Alicante  is  very  attractive  to  a  stranger. 
The  men  are  tall,  stout,  and  fine-looking ;  the  women,  in 
general,  very  pretty.  The  physical  characteristics  of  the 
south  begin  to  grow  very  apparent.  The  costume  is  a 
sort  of  jumble  of  Catalonian,  Valencian,  and  Andalusian — 
the  latter  predominating,  in  the  towns-people.  We  spent 
some  time  in  the  market-place,  where  the  jaunty  bearing, 
the  sal  and  gratia  of  the  Andalusians  were  decidedly  in  the 
ascendant.  Nobody  ever  starved  to  death,  I  take  it  for 
granted,  in  Alicante.  At  all  events,  there  were  no  prepara- 
tions for  any  thing  of  the  sort  while  we  were  there.  I  never 
saw  comfort,  for  the  inner  man,  in  greater  profusion.  There 
were  all  sorts  of  hams  and  bacon  from  Galicia  ;  sausages 
from  Estremadura ;  oranges  from  Murcia ;  lemons,  sweet 
and  sour  ;  citrons,  and  all  other  fruit  of  that  family,  rich  in 
size  and  flavor ;  almonds,  beans,  potatoes,  greens  of  all  kinds, 
figs,  grain,  and  bread ;  fine  poultry  in  abundance ;  and  if  you 
had  a  sweet  tooth,  the  famous  turron  de  Alicante,  a  con- 
fection of  almonds  and  honey,  which  can  be  made  nowhere 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  63 

else.  Besides  being  plentiful,  all  things  were  so  cheap,  too, 
as  to  make  it  obvious  that  they  were  almost  the  free  gift 
of  nature.  The  new  Plaza  being  unfinished,  there  was 
a  plentiful  lack  of  stalls,  which  the  poor  donkeys  were 
made  to  supply.  There  they  stood,  immovable  ;  .their 
fore-feet  tied  together,  by  way  of  insurance  against  friskiness, 
their  innocent  noses  only  daring  now  and  then  a  predatory 
incursion,  into  the  tempting  neighborhood  of  a  chance  wisp 
of  straw.  Upon  their  patient  backs  hung  the  panniers  of 
twisted  rushes,  in  which  they  had  brought  their  treasures 
from  afar.  Large  carts— the  bodies  -and  covers  of  which 
were  made  of  the  same  fabric  (the  rush),  with  wheels  that 
might  have  served  a  water-mill — stood  ranged  along  the 
walks ;  the  yokes  of  stalwart  oxen  that  belonged  to  them, 
giving  good  proof  that  beasts,  as  well  as  man,  had  share  in 
nature's  bounty.  We  saw  a  great  many  mules  in  Alicante : 
large,  fine,  and  handsome,  almost  without  exception.  The 
correo  which  started  as  we  went  down  one  of  the  streets, 
was  carried  by  a  superb  animal ;  decked,  like  a  captain- 
general,  with  tufts  of  red  worsted,  and  bearing  a  multitude 
of  jingling  bells  besides.  The  post-boy,  a  rollicking,  jockey- 
built  fellow,  clad  in  blue  tights  and  leather  leggings — with 
his  calanes  upon  one  side  of  his  head,  and  the  eternal  cigar- 
rito  in  one  corner  of  his  mouth — was  perched  on  the  mule, 
upon  top  of  a  portmanteau,  and  sundry  box-like  contrivances, 
looking  as  if  they  had  been  made  on  purpose  to  be  trotted  to 
pieces :  on  the  principle  of  those  Gothic  castles  you  see  in  the 
cabinets  of  gentlemen-chemists :  nicely  put  together,  to  be  de- 
molished by  electricity.  The  mule  seemed  to  have  a  clear 
idea,  that  any  rapid  movements  on  his  part  would  put  the 
mail  in  peril,  so  that,  although  the  angry  rider  cracked  his 
whip  until  the  narrow  streets  were  noisy  with  the  echoes, 
not  a  jot  beyond  a  gentlemanly  walk  could  the  considerate 
animal  be  made  to  move.  Railways  will  improve  the  mails 
there,  or,  at  all  events,  their  speed.  Give  me  the  mule  and 
the  postboy,  however,  in  preference  to  the  magnetic  telegraph, 


64  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

until  some  Franklin  shall  have  fathomed  those  phenomena 
of  electrical  mystery,  in  virtue  of  which  the  wires  become 
non-conductors,  invariably,  at  the  critical  moments  of  mercan- 
tile speculation. 

After  we  had  made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  gain  en- 
trance to  the  picture-gallery  of  the  Marquis  of  Angolfa,  the 
only  lion  left  to  us  was  the  cigar-factory,  belonging  to  the 
government,  in  which  between  three  and  four  thousand  women 
are  said  to  be  employed — a  world  of  labor,  surely,  to  end  in 
smoke  !  Here,  again,  we  were  unfortunate.  We  saw  the 
outside  of  the  building,  which  was  formerly  the  bishop's 
palace,  but  it  was  closed  to  strangers  during  the  only 
hours  at  our  disposal.  We  had  no  resource,  therefore,  but 
to  dive  into  a  cafe  hard  by  the  mole,  wherein,  if  all  unlike 
its  magnificent  Parisian  namesakes,  we  found  a  cool  orchata 
and  pleasant  shelter  from  the  sultry  air.  The  mozo,  an 
unsophisticated  substitute  for  the  well-combed  garpon  of  the 
Boulevards,  was  emphatically  free  and  easy ;  for  he  brought 
us  our  refreshments,  took  our  money,  and  then,  as  cosily  as 
might  be,  sat  down  beside  us,  and  put  forth  his  sentiments, 
without  being  asked.  As  social  relations  exist  in  Europe, 
such  a  performance  would  have  been  rather  singular,  any 
where  but  in  Spain  ;  yet  the  unobtrusive  and  native  good- 
breeding  of  the  man  made  it  very  natural.  Philosophers 
may  say  what  they  please  about  the  fitness  of  the  Spaniards 
to  become  republicans,  for  there  are  many  questions  to  be 
considered  in  that  one.  But  so  far  as  dignified  equality  in 
personal  intercourse  can  go ;  a  free  and  manly  bearing — full 
of  self-respect  and  deference  for  others — exacting  consideration 
from  the  superior  in  rank  and  fortune,  in  return  for  the  con- 
sideration that  is  rendered  him — if,  indeed,  any  thing  can  be 
said  to  be  exacted  which  seems  spontaneously  given — in 
this  perfect  republicanism  of  mariner — this  leveling  up,  in- 
stead of  down — it  seems  to  me  that  the  Spaniards  have  in- 
comparably the  advantage  of  any  people  that  I  know.  With 
the  Alicantese,  manner  must  come  by  nature;  for  they 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  65 

seem  to  be  a  plain,  hard- working  people,  generally,  with  few 
advantages,  beyond  good  health  and  constitutional  gayety. 
They  do  not  lack  taste,  however,  for  they  are  building  a 
beautiful  theater,  with  a  Doric  front,  which  is  to  accommodate 
fifteen  hundred  people.  The  neat  little  Glorieta  was  deserted 
by  the  promenaders  during  the  unseasonable  hours  that  we 
passed  in  the  city,  so  that  we  had  but  little  opportunity  of 
seeing  the  wealthier  classes.  They  were  wise  to  keep  within 
doors,  if  they  could  afford  it,  for  now,  at  last,  I  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  feeling  the  proximity  of  the  sun.  In  the  hot  months, 
Alicante  must  be  intolerable.  The  glare  from  the  houses 
and  hills,  even  thus  early  in  the  spring,  was  almost  parching. 
At  the  fountains,  thirsty-looking  people  were  catching  water 
in  large  earthen  jars,  and  there  were  crowds  of  the  ever- 
useful  donkeys,  pacing  from  house  to  house,  with  panniers 
well  loaded  with  the  same,  or  waiting  patiently  before  the 
doors,  while  their  drivers  distributed  the  refreshing  cargo. 
These  things  ;  the  complexion  of  the  people,  and  their  light 
and  loose  costume ;  the  heavy  matting  shading  the  balconies ; 
the  low,  close,  grated,  latticed  windows  ;  the  flat,  terraced 
roofs  ;  and  the  palm-trees,  waving  very  much  as  if  at  home, 
upon  the  plain  to  the  south  of  the  city ;  all  began  to  remind 
me  of  what  I  had  read  and  heard  of  Moorish  life  and  man- 
ners, and  the  relics  they  had  left  in  the  Peninsula. 

It  was  late  at  night  before  we  left  Alicante.  A  custom- 
house launch  kept  watch  and  ward  close  by  us  :  and  as,  now 
and  then,  a  stray  felucca  came  creeping  into  port,  we  could 
hear  the  summons  and  answer,  which  inquired  and  told 
their  comings  and  their  goings.  Whether  our  respectable 
commander  had  or  had  not  any  little  private  contraband  to 
manage,  I  will  not  presume  to  say.  Such  things,  they  hint, 
are  done  by  steamers,  as  well  as  meaner  craft,  and  there 
was  an  expression  of  interest,  now  and  then,  in  our  skipper's 
face,  as  he  looked  at  the  guarda-costa,  which  indicated  a  de- 
cided sense  of  inconvenience  from  her  proximity.  As  for  the 
passengers,  we  were  unanimous  in  thinking  that  star-light 


66  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

was  the  proper  light  for  Alicante  to  be  seen  in.  Back  in 
the  center  of  the  arc  which  the  coast  here  forms,  the  little 
city  twinkled  like  a  colony  of  fire-flies.  The  faro  flung  a 
stream  of  brilliancy  upon  the  water ;  and,  dim  seen  in  the 
transparent  air,  the  ranges  of  receding  hills  and  the  masts 
of  the  vessels  in  the  roads  made  up  a  picture,  none  the  less 
beautiful  because  it  was  almost  all  in  shadow.  Most  inter- 
esting to  us,  however,  was  a  bold,  fine  headland,  which  cleft 
the  horizon  in  the  direction  we  were  to  travel.  Around  it, 
at  last,  we  wended  our  way  toward  Cartagena. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Cartagena — The  Arsenal  and  Harbor — Gipsies  —  Appearance  and 
Habits  of  the  People — Almeria — Ballad  of  Count  Arnaldos — Span- 
ish Boatmen — Heat  of  the  Weather — Cathedral — Dismantled  Con- 
vent— Beggars — Morals  of  Almeria — The  Bride  and  the  Captain 
of  Carbineers — The  Mountains  of  Granada — Sunset — Mediterranean 
Captains. 

As  the  fog  lifted  itself  the  next  morning,  it  disclosed  the 
superb  harbor  of  Cartagena,  where  we  were  at  anchor.  We 
were  in  a  circle,  three-fourths  of  whose  circumference  was 
composed  of  hills,  some  of  them  high  enough  to  be  called 
mountains,  and  coming,  in  many  places,  perpendicularly 
down  to  the  sea.  The  entrance  to  the  harbor  was  the  other 
fourth,  and  outside,  in  front  of  that,  was  a  bluff,  low  island, 
a  magnificent  breakwater  to  this  finest  of  natural  basins. 
On  every  hill- top  was  a  fortification.  In  front  lay  the  city 
— seeming  much  smaller  than  in  reality  it  was — with  its 
superb  sea-wall,  and  massive  defenses,  high  over  all  of  which 
rose  an  old  ruined  keep,  with  square  towers,  said  to  have 
been  Roman,  Gothic,  Moorish,  and  Spanish,  by  turns,  and 
to  have  been  dismantled,  at  last,  by  the  all-subverting  French. 
Along  the  esplanade,  to  the  right,  as  we  faced  the  city, 
was  the  fine  Marine  School,  a  spacious,  tasteful,  and  appro- 
priate edifice — now,  alas !  without  students.  Hard  by  it  was 
the  extensive  Hospital,  happily  without  patients.  Far  to  the 
left,  we  could  see  the  entrance  to  the  famous  Arsenal,  which, 
with  its  long  line  of  buildings,  filled  up  that  segment  of  our 
view.  After  breakfast,  we  were  rowed  ashore.  A  visit  to 
the  Comandante  was  very  politely  received,  and  a  permis- 
sion readily  granted  for  us  to  visit  the  Arsenal.  On  our  ar- 


68  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

rival  at  the  gate,  a  guard  presented  himself  as  our  cicerone, 
and  we  wandered  with  him  for  an  hour  or  two  about  the 
spacious  and  magnificent,  but  now  solitary  precincts.  A 
small  schooner  and  a  brig  undergoing  repairs,  were  the  only 
representatives  of  the  once  proud  navy  of  Spain.  A  hundred 
soldiers,  two  hundred  sailors,  and  about  a  hundred  workmen, 
were  (our  guide  told  us)  the  only  tenants  of  the  lonely  place. 
Every  thing-  was  of  the  past ;  the  immense  basin,  "  capable 
of  holding  a  fleet,  with  fifty  feet  water;"  the  fine  docks,  wet 
and  diy ;  the  stupendous  masonry  ;  the  heavy  bronze  bolts, 
hinges,  and  rings  ;  the  extensive  and  solid  edifices ;  bore  am- 
ple and  unequivocal  testimony  to  wealth  and  power  gone  by. 
Of  late  years  (as  an  English  officer,  long  upon  the  station, 
whom  I  met  afterward,  informed  me),  great  improvements 
have  been  made,  or  rather  the  progress  of  decay  has  been 
very  materially  arrested.  Repairs  were  going  on  at  the 
time  of  our  visit.  Every  thing  out  of  doors  was  cleanly  and 
in  good  order ;  and  it  was  obvious  that  the  Comandante,  who 
is  said  to  be  a  man  of  energy,  was  doing  his  best  to  preserve 
so  conspicuous  a  monument  of  his  country's  palmier  days. 
Yet  the  shops  and  barracks  were  very  desolate ;  the  armories 
empty,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  old,  worthless  weapons ; 
and  in  the  long-store-houses  and  ammunition-rooms,  and  the 
wide  parks,  there  was  a  beggarly  array  of  old  chains,  anchors, 
shot,  and  disconsolate-looking  guns,  hardly  worth  the  labor  that 
would  be  needed  to  remove  their  rust.  I  gathered  a  few  lit- 
tle flowers  from  between  the  stones  of  a  deserted  court,  as  a 
memorial  of  the  "  Armada's  pride  and  spoils  of  Trafalgar." 

Returning  through  the  town,  we  stopped  at  a  cafe  to  take 
a  naranjada,  which  is  so  popular  a  beverage  here,  and 
while  our  hostess  was  squeezing  the  fresh,  juicy  oranges  to 
make  it,  a  group  of  gipsies  before  the  door  attracted  our  at- 
tention. It  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  any  of  the  tribe, 
and  I  felt  that  curiosity  in  regard  to  them,  which  all  who 
have  read  Mr.  Borrow's  romance  of  "  The  Zincali,"  can 
readily  understand.  Those  before  us  were  all  women.  Their 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  69 

dark  olive  complexions,  high  cheek-bones,  and  peculiar  pro- 
files, distinguished  them,  so  strikingly,  from  the  rest  of  the 
female  population,  that  we  might  have  known  their  name 
and  nation  without  asking.  They  were  comely  heathen, 
both  in  face  and  form,  and  their  gay  and  gaudily  flounced 
sayas  were  not  long  enough  to  impede  the  graceful  action  of 
their  limbs,  or  obstruct  the  public  inspection  of  their  ankles. 
Each  had  an  infant  in  her  arms ;  for  as  Sir  Edward  Coke 
hath  said  of  the  learned  followers  of  the  law,  that  "for  a 
special  blessing,  few  or  none  of  them  die  intestatus  et  improles, 
without  will  or  without  child,"  so  of  the  Gitano,  most  law- 
less though  he  be,  it  may  with  equal  truth  be  predicated,  that 
though  seldom  testamentary,  or  troubled  with  large  assets, 
he  generally  leaves  heirs  lineal ;  and  his  spouse  rarely  visits 
the  glimpses  of  the  day,  without  a  pledge  or  two  in  arms. 
We  made  a  move  toward  having  our  fortunes  told,  but  the 
brown  dames  were  not  communicative,  and  we  continued  our 
stroll. 

The  principal  church,  which  we  visited,  had  nothing  re- 
markable. In  the  streets  we  saw  a  still  more  Andalusian- 
like  population  than  that  of  Alicante.  The  calanes  was 
more  jaunty,  and  more  prodigal  of  top-knots.  The  gay, 
bright  manta  with  many  tassels,  and  the  short  vest  with 
buttons  of  silver  fillagree,  were  very  general.  The  boatmen 
were  more  full  of  life  and  humor  than  any  we  had  seen. 
They  sang  heartily,  and  their  songs  had  more  of  the 

"  To  qtte  soy  contrabandist^" 

in  style  and  sentiment,  than  any  we  had  heard  farther  north. 
There  were  no  longer  any  traces  of  the  Limousin  or  its  kin- 
dred enormities  of  dialect.  A  soft  and  musically-lisped  cor- 
ruption of  the  Castilian  had  succeeded. 

Having  returned,  from  our  walk,  to  the  landing-place,  we 
called  a  boat,  and  crossed  the  harbor  to  the  little  suburb  of 
Santa  Lucia,  in  the  neighborhood  of  which,  upon  the  sum- 
mit of  a  hill,  we  found  the  ruins  of  a  circular  building  which 


70  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

we  were  curious  to  visit,  as  it  had  formed  a  quite  con- 
spicuous object  from  other  points.  Our  boatmen  said  it  was 
"  tb.e  Moorish  Hermitage,"  but  it  had  nothing  of  Moorish, 
in  either  style  or  construction.  Be  that  as  it  may,  how- 
ever, we  had,  from  its  side,  an  enchanting  view  of  the 
harbor  and  its  mural  crowns,  the  city  with  its  gray,  towers 
and  battlements  and  the  arsenal  mirrored  in  its  green  basin. 
Hedges  of  the  prickly  pear,  crossed  and  recrossed  the 
plains  about  the  town.  Groups  of  fig-trees  were  green  in 
their  places,  and  here  and  there  a  beautiful  palm  rose, 
lofty  and  alone,  in  the  sun.  Along  the  line  of  country 
which  led  up  from  the  city  toward  the  interior,  posted,  as 
if  in  battle  array,  stood  an  army  of  Don  Quixote's  wind- 
mill-giants, waving  their  broad  arms  fiercely  to  the  hills. 
Sea  and  land,  trees  and  shipping,  sky  and  mountain,  city 
and  castles,  all  did  their  best  for  us  that  day,  but  we  were 
ungrateful,  and  lost  sight  of  them  in  the  distance,  before  the 
shades  of  evening  had  quite  gathered  round  them. 

Next  morning,  we  were  in  the  harbor  of  Almeria.  What 
a  thing  steam  is  !  Every  one  who  is  familiar  with  Mr. 
Lockhart's  charming  paraphrases  of  the  Spanish  ballads, 
will  remember  the  story  of  the  Count  Arnaldos,  which  he 
tells  so  gracefully.  It  was  St.  John's-day  morning,  as  the 
legend  goes,  and  the  count  was  flying  his  falcon,  on  the  shore, 
when  he  beheld  a  splendid  galley  gliding  toward  him,  with 
silken  sails  all  spread.  Upon  her  deck  there  was  a  mariner 
— no  other  than  the  blessed  Baptist,  as  it  seems— who 
chanted  as  he  came,  and  that,  so  wondrously,  that  the  very 
waves  grew  calm,  and  the  sea  birds  paused  in  air,  while 
the  fish  came  up,  to  listen.  The  song,  as  Lockhart  sings  it, 
was  one  of  triumph — 

"  False  Almeria' s  reefs  and  shallows 

*         *         #         #         * 

All,  my  glorious  galley  mocks !" 

The  orginal  is  in  a  different  spirit,  rather  of  prayer  than 
pride  : 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  71 

"  Galera — la  mi  galera 
Dios  te  me  guarde  de  mal, 
De  los  peligros  del  mit/ndo, 
Sobre  agitas  de  la  mar, 
De  los  llanos  de  Almeria"  &c. 

which  verbatim  and  with  trifling  transposition,  reads  thus  : 

"  Galley !  my  galley ! 
God  guard  me  thee  from  ill, 
From  the  perils  of  the  world, 
On  the  waters  of  the  sea ; 
From  the  shoals  of  Almeria,"  &c. 

But  take  it  either  way — what,  in  the  old  time,  it  asked  a 
saint  to  pray  for,  and  wrought  miracles  on  fish  and  fowl  to 
hear,  our  skipper  had  accomplished,  in  the  dark,  without 
any  thing  extraordinary  said  or  sung — albeit,  in  his  com- 
position there  was  not  a  scruple  of  sanctity  to  the  hundred- 
weight, and  neither  gull  nor  gudgeon  would  have  paused 
to  listen,  had  he  charmed  never  so  wisely.  What  a  story 
the  Count  Arnaldos  would  have  made  of  it,  if  he  had  seen 
his  ancient  mariner  steering  a  steamboat! 

If  Almeria  has  reefs  and  shallows,  we  were  inside  them, 
for  we  were  at  anchor  in  the  open  roads,  a  little  to  the  south 
of  the  town.  Not  far  from  us,  lay  two  or  three  English 
vessels,  on  which  a  trig  Spanish  war-steamer  kept  a  sharp  look- 
out. A  schooner  with  the  Neapolitan  flag,  and  a  few  small 
craft  were  all  the  rest  of  the  shipping,  so  that  if  Almeria 
has  much  trade,  it  is  clear  we  were  not  there  in  the  busy 
season.  A  long  and  rugged  hill  shut  out  the  whole  of  the 
back  country  from  our  view,  except  where,  to  the  north  and 
east,  a  wide  plain  disclosed  the  distant  range,  which  ends  at 
the  sea-coast  with  the  bold  headlands  of  the  Cabo  de  Gata. 
The  town  lies  at  the  bottom  of  a  steep  declivity,  upon  the 
crest  of  which,  the  old  Moorish  Alcazaba,  now  quite  a 
Christian  looking  fortress,  keeps  watch  and  ward.  The 
space  between  the  fort  and  the  buildings  of  the  town  was 
covered  with  an  unsightly  plantation  of  the  prickly  pear,  a 


72  GLIMPSES   OP  SPAIN. 

useful  plant  no  doubt — for  it  furnishes  food  and  lodging  to 
the  cochineal  insect,  which  is  becoming  an  important  article 
on  this  part  of  the  coast — but  certainly  adding  no  charms 
to  the  landscape  which  rejoices  in  it.  Upon  the  rough 
ungenial  hill  side,  just  in  front  of  us,  there  was  no  vegetation, 
except  where  a  few  scattered  patches  of  esparto  had  found 
scant  room  to  grow.  This  plant — the  Spanish  rush — not 
only  enters  into  multitudes  of  fabrics  here,  but  answers  for 
fuel  as  well.  Long  trains  of  mules,  with  loads  of  it  well 
dried,  were  creeping  down  the  narrow  winding  road,  to  the 
lead  smelting  furnaces,  several  of  which  were  sending  up 
their  white  smoke  from  below. 

After  breakfast,  the  boatmen  claimed  their  prey  as  usual. 
It  is  a  pleasant  change  for  travelers,  from  the  Italian  to 
the  Spanish  boatmen.  '  Not  only  are  their  little  craft  larger 
and  more  tidy,  but  they  are  themselves,  formed  into  a  sort 
of  company,  with  common  interests,  and  any  or  all  of  them  are 
ready,  at  any  time,  to  take  you  to  shore  or  ship  at  the  tariff 
price,  a  peseta  (twenty  cents)  the  round  trip.  This  arrange- 
ment I  found  in  many  of  the  ports,  and  even  where  it  did  not 
exist,  I  escaped  altogether  the  pulling,  hauling,  and  persecution, 
of  which,  among  the  Italian  Philistines,  I  have  disagreeable 
reminiscences.  We  landed  at  the  pile  of  stones  which  rep- 
resents, though  it  can  hardly  have  been  intended  for  a  pier, 
and  wandered  through  a  narrow  street,  up  to  the  body  of  the 
town.  It  was  Sunday,  and  the  weather  bright,  so  that  all 
the  population  were  abroad.  Crowds  of  peasants  had  come 
to  market,  and  it  was  pleasant  to  see  their  universal  clean- 
liness of  attire.  The  short,  loose,  kilt-looking  frock,  white 
gaiters,  and  well  bleached  shirt,  girded  with  the  red  sash, 
and  only  half-concealed  by  the  bright  manta,  gave  token 
that  summer's  heat  was  coming.  In  the  gardens,  of  which 
there  are  a  good  many  within  the  town  and  close  around  it, 
the  trees  were  generally  in  full  leaf;  the  fig-tree,  especially, 
being  both  abundant  and  very  green.  Not  a  bird  was 
silent  that  could  call  a  note  his  own.  The  water-carriers 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  73 

praised  and  sold  their  cool  draughts  to  many  customers, 
whom  the  sun  seemed  to  have  taught  their  value.  The 
palm-trees,  recently  robbed  of  their  leaves  for  Palm-Sunday's 
service,  looked  as  if  clad  lightly  to  suit  the  season.  Even 
the  mules,  whom  the  gipsy  trasquiladores  were  shearing, 
about  the  market-places,  seemed  as  if  they  were  having  their 
coats  taken  off,  in  obedience  to  the  many  warnings  that  sum- 
mer was  nigh.  The  plain  little  alamedas  or  public  walks, 
of  which  there  are  three,  though  altogether  without  orna- 
ment, were  still  attractive  from  their  luxurious  shade,  and 
their  long  lines  of  stone  benches,  on  which  you  might  coolly 
recline  and  enjoy  it. 

Obviously,  from  its  situation,  Almeria  is  a  city  of  great 
heats.  It  is  built,  as  one  would  imagine  an  African  town  to 
be.  Some  of  the  streets  and  houses  are  wider  and  finer 
than,  from  the  sea-view,  you  would  think  possible ;  but  still, 
most  of  the  former  are  very  narrow,  and  the  houses  are 
generally  low,  often  of  but  one  story,  with  large  grated  win- 
dows, down  on  the  very  street:  balconies  hung  with  matting 
and  lined  with  flowers,  and  an  interior  court,  sometimes  seen 
through  an  outer  grating,  and  inviting  you  to  stop  and  covet 
its  cool  fountain  and  refreshing  verdure  and  blossoms.  We 
visited  the  Cathedral,  which  has  a  very  respectable  Gothic 
interior,  though  obstructed  by  an  immense  choir  of  massive 
stone,  and  disfigured  by  statuary  in  the  worst  conceivable 
taste.  Some  exquisite  carvings,  in  dark  wood,  above  the 
stalls  of  the  choir,  are  attributed  to  Alonzo  Cario,  and  are 
very  miracles  of  art.  A  venerable  monument,  bearing  the 
effigy  of  some  long-departed  prelate,  of  the  family  of  Vilala, 
adorns  one  of  the  aisles.  He  has  a  marble  dog  sleeping 
at  his  feet,  and  another  upon  his  heraldic  bearings.  Many 
great  people,  whose  tombs  I  have  seen,  have  preferred  to 
rest  their  feet  upon  couchant  lions.  The  good  bishop,  here, 
had  better  taste.  What  more  natural,  than  that  when 
the  shepherd  sank  to  rest,  his  dog  should  lie  down  before 
him?  From  the  Cathedral,  we  went  to  another  church, 

D 


74  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

the  name  of  which  was  not  worth  remembering.  In  a  third, 
belonging  to  one  of  the  suppressed  convents,  we  found  a 
horse,  stabled  in  a  side  chapel.  The  convent,  itself,  was  a 
barrack.  If  piety  and  propriety  were  not  strong  enough  to 
save  the  temple,  some  compassion  might  have  been  felt  for 
the  work  of  art.  There  were  some  fine  arches  in  that 
church,  for  the  preservation  of  which,  even  a  poor  govern- 
ment, might  have  been  extravagant  enough  to  build  a  hay- 
loft. Henry  VIII.  and  Cromwell  gave  bad  examples,  ill- 
followed  here,  where  the  church  and  altar  are  still  held  as 
sacred. 

In  our  walk,  we  were  pursued  and  persecuted  by  a  crowd 
of  beggars,  boys  and  girls,  against  whom  the  church  gave 
no  privfltege  of  sanctuary,  for  they  followed  us  into  the  very 
choir  of  the  Cathedral,  despite  the  wrath  of  the  sacristan, 
and  when  driven  out  at  one  door,  came  back  through  another, 
each  seeming  to  bring  with  him,  every  time,  seven  ragged 
devils  more.  One  of  my  companions,  whose  nearest  ap- 
proach to  Spanish  was  an  assortment  of  not  very  choice 
Italian,  bestowed  upon  them  such  maledictions  as  he  had, 
but  they  seemed  rather  to  like  that,  and  only  followed  us 
the  more  noisily  therefor.  A  trifling  tribute,  to  the  amount 
of  a  few  cuartoS)  which  we  paid  by  way  of  compromise,  had 
no  effect  but  to.  make  the  rascals  greedier ;  and  when  I  en- 
deavored, in  moderate  Castilian,  to  convince  them  that  going 
away  quietly  was  more  agreeable  than  being  kicked,  they  ap- 
peared delighted  that  the  Ingleses  could  understand  them, 
and  redoubled  their  solicitations  accordingly.  Through  the 
town  then,  wherever  we  went,  eur  motley  escort  went  also, 
led  on  by  a  gorgon-headed  lad,  whose  face  was  loathsome 
from  disease,  and  a  precious  scamp,  some  ten  years  old,  whose 
solitary  vestment  was  a  fragment  of  blanket,  twisted  round 
his  shoulders,  and  falling  so  peculiarly  about  the  rest  of  his 
person,  that  if 

"Nature's  dress 
Was  loveliness," 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  75 

he  rivaled  Nora  Creina.  While  we  were  taking  our  naran- 
jada  at  the  cafe,  they  kept  guard  at  the  door,  and  when 
we  started  again,  they  surrounded  us,  screaming  and  danc- 
ing like  mad.  Happily,  however,  they  became  too  numerous 
at  last  to  be  of  one  mind,  and,  as  the  prospect  of  donations 
grew  slim,  the  idea  of  monopoly  became  stronger.  Accord- 
ingly, they  relieved  us,  by  commencing  to  throw  stones  at 
each  other,  and  at  this  critical  moment  some  gipsy  women 
passing,  came  to  our  rescue,  and  spake  their  minds,  which, 
judging  from  the  specimen,  must  have  been  rather  perverted. 
Under  cover  of  this  diversion  we  made  our  escape,  and  were 
not  overtaken,  until  far  down  the  sea-wall,  on  our  return  to 
the  ship.  When  we  arrived  at  the  beach,  and  they  found 
that  they  were  to  get  nothing,  they  pretty  unanimously  rolled 
over  on  the  sand,  and  we  left  them  lying  in  the  sun,  ap- 
parently as  happy  as  if  they  had  seen  Felicity,  personified,  in 
the  shape  of  a  peseta. 

I  mention  the  whole  incident,  because  it  was  the  only 
occasion  during  my  stay  in  Spain,  on  which  I  was  incom- 
moded, for  more  than  a  moment,  by  the  beggars. 

I  was  sorry  to  hear  afterward,  that  what  the  gipsies  had 
said  of  the  rising  generation  of  Almeria,  was  too  true  to  be 
made  a  jest  of.  There  is  a  certain  oriental  freedom  of  man- 
ners there,  according  to  all  accounts,  which  interferes  sadly 
with  the  number  of  "-wise  children." 

When  our  steamer  again  lighted  her  fires  to  be  off,  we 
were  sorry  to  miss  from  the  ship's  company  a  sweet  little 
bride,  who  had  joined  us,  with  her  lord  and  master,  the  day 
before.  Her  mother  came  on  board  with  her,  and  their 
parting  was  tearful  and  tender  enough  ;  but,  alas  !  such  are 
brides  all  the  world  through — though  it  was  nigh  sunset  before 
we  left  Cartagena,  her  eyes  were  as  bright  and  dry  as  ever, 
before  twilight  was  over  !  I  would  not  say  so  ill-natured  a 
thing  upon  slight  foundation,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
about  it ;  for  the  eyes  in  question  were  pleasant  to  look  upon, 
and  there  were  several  on  board  who  took  particular  notice 


76  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

of  them.  With  the  new-married  couple  was  a  sprightly  and 
somewhat  enterprising  bridesmaid,  who,  with  great  good 
sense,  left  her  charges  to  console  each  other,  and  bestowed 
her  own  agreeable  conversation  on  a  preux  chevalier,  a  cap- 
tain of  carbineers,  belonging  to  the  party.  The  captain, 
unhappily,  had  made  up  his  mind,  or  had  a  presentiment, 
that  he  should  be  sea-sick,  and  though  the  sea  was  as  smooth 
as  Loch-Katrine,  when  Fitz-James'  bugle  woke  its  echoes, 
he  turned  pale,  at  the  first  movement  of  the  engine,  and,  but- 
toning to  the  throat,  refused  to  be  comforted.  But,  though 
unable  to  be  gallant,  he  did  his  best  to  be  civil  to  strangers. 
Taking  my  companions,  who  sate  near  him,  to  be  English, 
he  said,  with  a  bow,  "  Vmdes.  son  Ingleses.  Yo  quiero 
mucho  a  los  Ingleses." — (You  are  English.  I  like  the  En- 
glish very  much).  "  We  are  Americans,  at  your  service," 
was  the  reply.  With  as  much  composure,  as  if  he  had  in- 
tended from  the  first  to  say  it,  he  rejoined,  "  Tambien!" 
(also  !)  and  relapsed,  with  another  bow,  into  his  qualmish 
silence.  Any  body  but  a  Spaniard  would  probably  have 
felt  himself  bound,  by  courtesy,  to  beg  their  pardon,  for  hav- 
ing supposed  that  they  were  people  whom  he  liked. 

We  left  Almeria  quite  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  the 
smoke  was  curling,  white,  abreast  of  us,  from  the  furnaces 
of  Adra,  as  evening  closed,  for  the  first  time  with  me,  upon 
the  storied  hills  of  Granada.  Far  inland,  but  full  in  our 
view,  and  red  with  the  glory  of  a  matchless  sunset,  rose  the 
snowy  summits  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  proud  Mula-hacen 
towering  above  them  all.  From  peak  to  peak  of  the  nearer 
Alpuocarras,  light  and  shadow  chased  each  other,  down  to 
the  very  borders  of  the  sea.  Upon  one  noble  mountain,  a 
white  cloud  Was  gathered,  resembling  a  castle  wonderfully, 
and  shifting  its  fantastic  towers  and  battlements,  with  every 
moment  of  the  waning  day.  It  was  the  very  hour  so  famous 
in  romance  and  song. 

u  There  was  crying  in  Granada,  when  the  sun  was  going  down, 
Some  calling  on  the  Trinity — some  calling  on  Mahoun!" 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  77 

The  sea  was  tranquil :  the  twilight,  of  the  loveliest  and  soft- 
est :  and  there  was  every  thing  in  air,  and  sky,  and  prospect, 
and  association,  to  fill  the  moment  with  delight,  and  furnish 
food  for  pleasant  dreams.  Our  company  enjoyed  the  scene, 
each  after  his  peculiar  fashion.  The  tall,  mysterious 
Frenchman,  who  had  been  studying  Spanish  literature,  all 
the  afternoon,  out  of  a  translation  of  the  opera  of  the 
"  Lombardi,"  laid  down  his  volume,  lifted  up  his  eyebrows  and 
mustache,  and  said  with  emphasis  and  an  air  of  discovery, 
to  the  Italian  by  his  side — "Que  c'est  fort  beau!"  The 
Italian,  who,  for  his  part,  had  been  preparing  for  his  Spanish 
excursion,  by  reading  the  History  of  the  Coronation  of 
Charles  V.  at  Bologna,  ceased  for  a  moment  from  his  labors 
and  exclaimed,  "  Sicuro  /"  as  if  he  meant  it.  The  merry 
Andalusians  let  flag  the  jest  they  had  been  passing  all  day 
long,  and  one  of  them  in  an  exulting  tone,  that  I  could  well 
excuse,  cried  out  to  me — "  Solo  en  Espana  se  ve  eso  /" 
(That  thing  is  only  to  be  seen  in  Spain).  I  did  not  dispute 
it,  but  abstained  from  patriotism  and  Niagara,  and  I  know 
not  how  far  we  should  have  gone  into  raptures  together,  had 
not  our  burly  captain  felt  it  his  duty  to  contribute  his  mite 
of  sentiment.  Unhappily,  in  common  with  all  other  cap- 
tains of  steamers  on  the  Mediterranean,  he  had  the  gift  of 
speaking  all  known  languages  at  once,  and  no  one  in  par- 
ticular,* at  any  time.  The  first  burst  of  his  enthusiasm, 


*  I  remember  an  amusing  incident,  illustrative  of  this  peculiarity, 
which  happened  on  board  the  Mongibello,  a  capital  steamer,  running 
from  Marseilles  to  Naples.  We  were  leaving  the  former  port,  in 
pretty  heavy  weather,  with  the  wind  strongly  ahead,  when  a  crowd  of 
vessels,  coming  in  with  great  rapidity,  rendered  our  exit  through  the 
narrow  neck  of  the  harbor  a  matter  of  some  difficulty  and  danger. 
We  had  already  had  several  slight  collisions,  and  had  been  paddling 
backward  and  forward,  nearly  an  hour.  Our  captain,  a  Neapolitan  by 
birth,  but  quite  a  Babylonian  in  tongues,  had  exhausted  almost  all  his 
oaths  and  patience,  and  when,  at  last,  a  fair  opportunity  presented,  of 
shooting  directly  out  to  sea,  his  orders  were  misunderstood  in  the  con-% 
fusion,  and  there  was  an  unaccountable  delay.  He  stamped  and 


78  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

therefore,  was  sufficient  to  exorcise  all  of  our  enchanted 
Moors,  and,  with  a  shout  of  laughter,  we  came  back  to 
common  things. 

swore  again,  insanely,  and  as  the  English  engineer  thrust  his  head 
through  the  hatches  to  hear  better,  he  fairly  roared  to  him,  "  Santo 
diavolo  !  entendez  vous !  go  ahead!" 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Malaga — Its  Appearance  from  the  Water — The  Citadels — The 
Alameda — Defacing  Public  Monuments — Westminster  Abbey — 
Greenough's  Washington — The  Cathedral  of  Rouen  and  the  Swiss — 
Coaches — Streets — Moonlight  Walks  and  Views — the  Torres. 

I  WAS  awakened,  next  morning,  by  the  rough  voice  of  a 
carabinero,  directing  me  to  get  my  baggage  in  readiness,  if 
I  intended  it  to  be  landed  that  day.  My  companions  were 
already  in  a  barge  along-side,  and  I  made  what  haste  I  could 
to  go  through  the  usual  martyrdom  with  them.  We  were 
all  landed  together,  and  went  in  procession  to  fee  Custom- 
house, in  a  hollow  square  of  portmanteaus  and  hat-boxes, 
with  porters,  boatmen,  and  officials  on  the  flanks  and  in  the 
rear.  The  ordeal,  however,  was  far  less  impertinent  than 
it  threatened  to  be,  for  we  were  dismissed  with  politeness 
and  convenient  dispatch,  and  soon  found  ourselves  "  in 
clover,"  in  the  admirable  Fonda  de  la  Alameda.  Before 
the  day  was  over,  I  had  renewed  so  many  old  acquaintances 
and  formed  so  many  pleasant  new  ones,  that  I  felt  more  at 
home  than  I  had  imagined  possible,  so  very  far  away.  My 
mind  was  soon  made  up,  therefore,  to  let  the  Barcino  go  upon 
her  way,  without  me. 

Malaga  has  nothing  very  remarkable  in  its  buildings, 
generally,  and  lying,  as  it  does,  upon  a  slip  of  land  between 
the  mountains  and  the  sea,  is  dwarfed  by  the  commanding 
eminences  which  frown  so  immediately  over  it.  Nevertheless 
it  is  a  striking  city,  and  has  many  elements  of  beauty.  Far 
out  in  the  harbor,  upon  the  extremity  of  the  fine  mole,  there 
stands  a  graceful  tower,  looking  almost  too  picturesque  fo* 
the  practical  uses  of  a  light-house.  High  up  the  lofty  hill 


80  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

upon  the  right,  as  you  enter  the  port,  you  see  the  hoary 
ruins  of  the  Alcazaba,  a  Moorish  citadel,  from  which, 
between  two  massive  walls  skirting  the  ascent,  a  way  leads 
further  up,  as  in  the  olden  time,  to  the  still  loftier  and  more 
majestic  fortress,  called  the  Gibalfaro.  These  bold  and  solid 
keeps  are  intimately  connected  with  the  story  of  a  gallant 
siege,  and  one  of  the  gallantest  defenses  in  all  the  Moorish 
wars.  You  can  almost  fix  upon  the  very  tower,  from  which 
the  Gomeles  hung  out  the  captured  banner  of  the  Marquis 
of  Cadiz,  to  mock  him,  while  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were 
feasting  in  his  camp.  With  quite  as  much  of  certainty, 
perhaps,  as  you  point,  often,  to  the  scenes  of  sober  history,  you 
can  select,  if  you  are  fanciful,  the  very  battlements  on  which 
stood  Hamet  el  Zegri  and  the  dervish,  when  the  spells  were 
woven  which  were  to  confound  the  Christian's  hopes.  If  you 
have  leisure  and  are  not  easily  fatigued,  you  may  climb  the  same 
narrow,  winding  ways,  up  which  the  captives  all  went, 
sorrowing,  when  the  victory  was  won.  Rugged  and  dilapi- 
dated enough  they  are  :  lined  with  wretched  hovels,  which 
lean  against  the  yet  stanch  old  walls,  and  are  inhabited 
by  the  very  refuse  of  the  population.  Here  and  there  you 
will  pass  a  sentinel,  as  you  go  under  a  tall  horse-shoe  arch, 
which  rests,  perhaps,  upon  some  shabby  fragment  of  a 
Roman  column,  and  is  lighted  by  the  little  lamp  which 
burns  before  an  humble  shrine.  Ever  and  anon  you  reach 
a  salient  point,  from  which  you  have  a  glimpse  of  the  white 
city  and  the  Vega,  flanked  by  the  mountains,  and  inclining 
gently  toward  the  sea.  You  wonder,  when  you  reach  the 
Alcazaba,  how  it  was  possible  for  the  thousands  of  captives 
to  have  been  gathered,  as  the  chronicles  assert,  within  the 
space  you  see  around  you ;  but  when  you  gaze  at  the  bright- 
ness and  beauty  of  the  land  upon  which  they  looked,  as 
they  went  forth  to  bondage  and  exile,  you  cease  to  wonder 
that  they  should  have  wept,  with  the  bitterness  of  which  the 
legends  tell. 

Toward  the  western  part  of  the  city,  the  charming  Ala- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  81 

meda  runs  from  the  quay  up  to  the  G-uadalmedina,  which 
divides  the  city  proper  from  the  suburbs.  This  river  is  said  to 
be  a  very  respectable  one,  in  its  season ;  when  I  was  in  Malaga, 
it  rejoiced  in  little  else  than  a  capacious  bed  of  dry  stones. 
The  Alameda  is  between  four  and  five  hundred  yards  in 
length.  At  the  extremity  nearest  the  sea,  there  is  a  grace- 
ful marble  fountain,  which,  as  Ford  reports,  was  presented 
to  Charles  V.,  by  the  republic  of  Genoa.  Its  nudity  shows 
more  of  the  Italian  taste,  than  its  excellence,  of  the  Italian 
chisel.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  walk,  another  fountain 
flows  from  the  center  of  a  sweet  little  inclosed  garden. 
Communicating  with  this,  and  fed  by  it,  are  small  canals, 
which  pass  down  the  side  of  the  Alameda,  nourishing  the 
trees  and  flowers  that  give  it  shade  and  fragrance.  The 
central  promenade  is  broad  and  fine.  Busts  of  gods  and 
goddesses,  upon  pedestals  of  marble,  stand  in  the  spaces  be- 
tween the  trees,  the  whole  length  of  the  Alameda,  and  al- 
though not  Phidian  exactly,  they  would  still  be  ornamental, 
were  it  not  that  rude  hands  have  anticipated  time,  and 
made  so  free  with  their  celestial  noses,  that  they  rival  the 
forlorn  Roman  emperors  you  see  so  often  in  classic  galleries, 
and  might  even  be  compared  to  the  best  mutilations  extant, 
in  France,  or  Westminster  Abbey,  or  among  our  own  repub- 
lican iconoclasts. 

It  is  an  idea,  by-the-by,  very  prevalent  with  us,  at  home, 
that  the  taste  for  defacing  public  monuments  is  an  American 
peculiarity.  It  certainly  is  one  of  our  weaknesses.  The 
last  time  that  I  saw  Greenough's  colossal  Washington,  in 
the  garden  of  the  Capitol,  some  irreverent  heathen  had  taken 
the  pains  to  climb  up  and  insert  a  large  "plantation"  cigar 
between  the  lips  of  the  pater  patrice,  while  another  had 
amused  himself  with  writing  some  stanzas  of  poetry,  in  a  style 
rather  more  popular  than  elegant,  upon  a  prominent  part 
of  the  body  of  the  infant  Hercules,  who  is  strangling  serpents, 
in  relief,  upon  the  lower  part  of  the  work.  I  could  not  help 
thinking,  at  the  time,  that  if  Washington  had  looked  less 

D* 


82  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

like  the  Olympic  Jove,  and  more  like  himself,  not  even  the 
vagabond  who  perpetrated  the  trick  of  the  cigar,  would  have 
dared  or  dreamed  of  such  a  desecration.  That,  however,  is 
a  matter  of  taste,  and  such  people  are  not  apt  to  be  either 
patriotic  or  critical.  It  is  a  great  mistake,  nevertheless,  to 
suppose  that  such  things  are  at  all  peculiar  to  the  United 
States.  They  meet  you,  frequently,  in  England,  although 
the  care  which  is  taken  of  public  monuments  should  tend 
to  prevent  a  result,  which  our  shameless  neglect  of  the  few  we 
have,  would  almost  seem  to  invite.  Not  content  with  having 
taken  off,  in  the  flesh,  the  head  of  poor  Mary,  Queen  of 
Scots,  they  now  show  you  the  marble  effigy  upon  her  tomb, 
in  Westminster  Abbey,  minus  several  of  its  fingers.  Nor 
does  she  lack  abundant  company,  of  royal  and  noble  noses 
pointless,  cracked  heads  and  hands  and  toes,  in  all  the 
chapels.  Many  of  these  mutilations,  however,  may  have 
been  the  inevitable  result  of  time  and  accident,  while  others 
may  have  been  the  legacy  of  those  good  days,  when  royalty 
was  unpopular  in  England,  and  when,  as  afterward  in  France, 
to  bruise  a  prince's  statue  was  as  sure  a  mark  of  republican- 
ism, as  to  violate  and  destroy  a  sanctuary  was  of  orthodoxy 
in  religion.  It  may  be  doubted,  however,  whether  the  omis- 
sion of  Cromwell's  image  in  the  new  Parliament  House,  or 
the  exhibition  of  the  tombs  at  Westminster  for  "  sixpence, 
sir !"  gives  any  token  of  a  better  spirit.  In  the  superb  Cath- 
edral of  Rouen,  some  of  the  finest  of  the  monuments  bear 
sad  traces  of  the  first  revolution.  The  Swiss  who  showed 
us  all  the  lions  there,  conducted  us,  after  long  wandering,  to 
a  niche,  within  which  is  the  tomb  of  Hollo,  the  first  Duke 
of  Normandy,  whose  conversion  to  Christianity,  and  baptism, 
make  so  large  a  figure  in  the  history  of  the  cathedral,  and 
of  Normandy  itself.  The  Swiss  waxed  very  eloquent,  as 
he  went  over  his  story,  for  the  thousandth  time,  and  then 
turning  to  the  statue,  which  was  rude  enough,  in  all  con- 
science, and  had  a  mended  nose,  he  said,  "La  voila  qui  est 
toute  antique,  moins  le  nez,  qui  a  ete  restitue."  A  witty 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  83 

Frenchman  in  our  company  instantly  rejoined,  "  Cest  a  dire 
qu'il  est  deux  fois  nez  (ne)f" 

But  let  us  return  to  the  Alameda.  It  has  side-roads,  for 
horsemen  and  carriages,  entirely  independent  of  the  streets 
proper  which  skirt  the  outside.  These  last  are  well  paved, 
but  the  Alameda  and  its  appurtenances  are  of  hard,  smooth 
earth,  well  watered,  and  kept  level  .and  in  perfect  order. 
Little  shops  or  booths  are  scattered  here  and  there  alongside 
the  walk,  and  before  each  there  is  a  lighted  uope's  end, 
which  burns  for  the  benefit  of  wandering  smokers.  All  day 
long  there  were  loungers  sitting  and  lying  on  the  stone 
benches,  and  now  and  then  a  listless,  melancholy  pedestrian, 
with  his  big  cloak  about  him,  though  it  were  mid-day,  would 
stroll  along,  taking  the  fresco  lazily.  Malaga,  however,  is 
too  brisk  and  busy  a  place  for  much  of  the  dolce  far  niente, 
and  there  was  usually  no  throng,  except  on  feast-days,  until 
the  evening  had  well-nigh  set  in.  Then,  by  degrees,  the 
graceful,  trim  mantillas  would  appear  more  and  more  fre- 
quently, until  the  walk  was  gay,  and  the  sound  of  pleasant 
conversation,  rising  to  my  window,  would  tempt  me  to  join 
one  of  the  cheerful  groups,  and  breathe  the  fresh  air  which 
came  down  sweetly  from  the  mountains.  Times  have  chang- 
ed, in  Malaga,  since  the  visit  of  our  countryman  Mackenzie. 
The  "  pervading  poverty,"  of  which  he  speaks,  as  depriving 
the  Alameda  of  horses  and  equipage,  was  no  longer  conspic- 
uous when  I  was  there ;  for  many  a  gallant  ginete  spurred 
his  well-trained  charger  round,  and  a  fair  face  would  occa- 
sionally shine  forth  upon  you,  from  the  window  of  a  handsome 
modern  vehicle.  The  splendid  coach,  built  in  the  city  of 
Baltimore  for  President  Harrison,  and  purchased  by  a  wealthy; 
and  estimable  family  in  Malaga,  bore  its  part,  frequently,  in 
the  procession  of  the  evening.  Unluckily,  however,  the 
streets  of  Malaga  are  so  Moorishly  narrow  and  crooked,  and 
the  roads  about  the  town  so  rugged  and  precipitous,  that 
riding,  for  pleasure  or  business,  is  out  of  the  question,  and 
this,  rather  than  the  lack  of  taste  or  means,  makes  vehicles 


84  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

less  numerous  than  they  would  be,  were  they  not  thus, 
exclusively,  a  thing  for  show.  As  twilight  drew  toward 
its  waning,  the  promenaders  would  gradually  retire,  with  the 
myriads  of  twittering  martlets  that  filled  the  air  by  daylight, 
and  by  the  time  it  was  full  night,  only  a  few  men  would  re- 
main. Then  the  pleasantest  time  (save  only  in  the  matter 
of  mantillas)  would  commence  ;  for,  whether  by  moon  or 
starlight,  the  sky  was  beautiful,  the  air  transparent,  always, 
and  there  was  vigor  in  the  freshening  breeze,  and  music  in 
the  distant  dashing  of  the  sea.  At  right  angles  with  the 
principal  Alameda,  and  running  from  its  upper  extremity, 
there  is  a  lesser  one,  not  long  constructed,  called  the  Alameda 
de  los  tristes.  It  was  but  little  frequented,  and,  in  the  silent 
hours,  was  sad  enough  to  deserve  its  name.  It  went  down 
to  the  very  shore,  where  there  was  a  little  fort  or  rampart, 
commanding  a  cove  extremely  convenient  for  contraband, 
and  there  was,  in  consequence,  a  sentinel  always  on  guard. 
The  first  night  that  I  approached  his  sacred  precincts,  I 
was  with  some  friends,  and  entirely  unaware  of  the  exist- 
ence of  the  post.  We  were  suddenly  startled,  by  the 
gleaming  of  a  firelock  in  the  moonlight,  and  the  quick  cry, 
"  Quien  va?"  One  of  my  companions  instantly  replied, 
"Espana!"  to  which  the  sentry  most  characteristically  re- 
joined, "Me  hace  vmd.  favor  de  un  tabaco,  caballero?" 
(Will  you  favor  me  with  a  cigar,  sir  ?)  The  boon  was 
granted,  and  we  had  the  freedom  of  the  little  citadel,  with 
its  full  sweep  of  view  over  the  glancing  waters  ;  no  trifling 
pleasure,  to  be  so  cheaply  purchased,  and  one  which  I  was 
careful,  afterward,  not  to  forego,  on  opportunity. 

But  my  chief  place  of  resort  to  enjoy  the  beauty  of  the 
late  evenings,  was  the  torre,  or  observatory  of  the  Fonda. 
All  the  houses  of  any  pretension,  in  Malaga,  and,  indeed,  in 
most  of  the  Andalusian  cities,  have  their  torres.  Much  can 
not  be  said,  generally,  for  them,  in  point  of  architecture,  for 
they  are  mostly  but  square  turrets,  with  pointed  roofs,  and  a 
little  weathercock  or  some  conical  ornament  on  top  ;  but  they 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  85 

give  a  pleasing  variety  to  the  outline  of  the  buildings,  and 
their  checkered  and  shining  tiles,  of  different  colors,  have  a 
quaint  and  ancient  look.  They  show,  besides,  a  commendable 
appreciation  of  fine  prospect  and  fresh  air,  and  are  treasures 
for  a  quiet  lounge,  or  chat,  or  reverie.  I  remember,  upon 
one  evening  especially,  that  I  went  up  to  our  torre,  at  a 
somewhat  later  hour  than  it  became  an  invalid  to  be  watch- 
ing. The  great  bell  of  the  Cathedral  rang  eleven,  as  I  first 
looked  out.  A  quiet  freshness  came,  from  the  land-side, 
which  made  me  draw  my  cloak  about  me,  though  there 
was  not  breeze  enougfr  to  make  a  rustling  among  the  leaves. 
The  light-house  on  the  rnole  appeared  to  be  keeping  the  moon 
company,  and  the  stars  twinkled  busily — undimmed,  it  seemed 
to  me,  even  by  the  flood  of  light  which  was  over  all  things. 
The  rest  of  the  picture  was  in  slumber,  from  the  heavy  Cathe- 
dral tower — sleepy-looking  enough  at  mid-day — to  the  broad, 
unrippled  sea,  the  shadowy -tinted  Vega,  and  the  dark  brown 
distant  mountains,  with  their  crests  of  snow.  Suddenly  a 
party  of  carbineers,  horse  and  foot,  on  scent  of  contraband, 
tramped  heavily  and  rapidly  across  the  Alameda,  and  then 
the  sound  of  their  measured  tread  died  as  speedily  away.  A 
watchman,  with  his  spear  and  a  little  lamp  (to  see  the  moon- 
shine, 1  suppose),  cried  "  Ave  Maria  purithima  /"  and  told 
the  hour ;  and,  as  he  hushed  his  droning,  drowsy  call,  a  watch- 
dog, far  away  upon  the  Vega,  seemed  to  take  it  up  more 
musically,  and  mingled  his  low,  deep  baying  with  the  solemn 
whisper  of  the  waves.  It  was  a  night,  of  all  others,  to  take 
the  fairies  out  to  dance  :  but  thoughts  of  nerves  that  might 
dance,  to  a  less  pleasant  tune,  next  morning,  sent  me,  unwill- 
ingly, to  bed,  just  at  the  witching  time. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Commerce  of  Malaga  —  Manufactures  —  Heredia's  Works  —  Iron 
Foundry  —  Spanish  Iron  and  Coal  —  Clay  Figures — The  Fonda  de 
la  Alameda — American  and  European  Hotels — Travelers  to  Grana- 
da— Fellow-lodgers — The  Irish  Parson — English  and  Continental 
Manners — Spanish  Cookery — Rides  about  the  Hills — The  Retiro — 
Villa  of  the  Prussian  Consul — Calesas  and  Bombes — Torre  Molino. 

IF  there  be  any  city,  in  the  world,  which  sits  under  its 
own  vine  and  fig-tree,  it  is  Malaga.  From  time  immemorial, 
as  every  body  knows,  it  has  lived  by  fig,  wine,  and  grape. 
Any  one  who  is  curious  to  know  how  its  customs,  in  such 
matters,  can  be  traced  back,  through  the  PhoBnicians,  to 
Isaiah  and  holy  Job,  will  find  the  subject  satisfactorily 
expounded,  in  Mr.  Ford's  Hand-book.  Simple  readers  will 
be  satisfied  that  there  may  be  worse  places  than  Malaga,  for 
those  who  relish  the  good  things  of  the  earth,  when  they  are 
informed  that  the  green  grape,  which,  of  late  years,  has 
grown  from  a  luxury  into  a  necessary,  in  the  United  States, 
is  the  least  prized,  at  home  of  all  the  products  of  the  vine. 
Unhappily,  the  finer  and  more  delicate  sorts  will  not  bear 
transportation,  so  that  we  can  never  have  an  opportunity  of 
testing,  fairly,  so  serious  a  question.  During  the  vendeja,  or 
vintage-time,  the  city  is  filled  with  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, from  the  country  round,  who  are  busy,  day  and  night, 
in  bringing  to  market,  packing  and  shipping,  the  generous 
crop.  The  harbor,  meanwhile,  is  thronged  with  vessels,  of 
all  sorts,  from  all  fruit-loving  countries,  and  no  one  is  permit- 
ted to  eat  idle  bread.  The  largest  and  finest  raisins,  until 
within  a  few  years  past,  went  almost  exclusively  to  En- 
gland, John  Bull  being  willing  to  pay  more  than  his  neigh- 
bors, for  his  grapes,  as  well  as  the  juice  of  them.  Late- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  87 

ly,  some  few  have  made  their  way  to  the  United  States, 
where,  it  is  not  to  be  doubted,  they  will  be  more  and 
more  sought  after,  there  being  so  little  comparison  between 
the  common  and  superior  kinds,  as  to  make  them  almost 
seem  different  fruit.  When  the  vendeja  is  over,  business 
subsides  into  quiet  channels,  where  it  flows,  less  rapidly,  but 
still  not  lazily,  until  Bacchus  reels  around,  with  his  good 
gifts,  once  more. 

Of  late  years,  much  attention  has  been  given  in  Malaga 
to  manufactures,  and  they  now  begin  to  be  a  matter  of  im- 
portant consideration.  There  is  a  large  and  prosperous  iron 
foundry,  upon  the  beach  to  the  right  of  the  harbor,  and  the 
tall  chimney  of  the  extensive  establishment,  upon  the  other 
side  of  the  city,  is  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  objects  as  you 
go  in  from  sea.  I  had  thought,  at  first,  that  the  last  men- 
tioned works  were  devoted,  exclusively,  to  the  manufacture  of 
iron,  but  having  an  opportunity  of  visiting  them  shortly  after 
my  arrival,  I  was  surprised  to  see  the  extent  and  variety  of 
the  purposes,  to  which  a  very  heavy  capital  was  applied. 
Don  Manuel  Heredia,  one  of  the  principal  proprietors,  an 
intelligent  and  cultivated  gentleman,  did  me  the  favor  to 
accompany  me  through  the  establishment.  A  large  and 
well  appointed  factory  of  coarse  cottons  and  linens,  though 
but  a  few  months  in  operation,  employed  some  six  or  seven 
hundred  artisans.  The  iron  foundry,  occupying,  at  times, 
four  or  five  hundred  people,  was  complete  in  all  the  appli- 
ances needful  for  the  smelting  of  the  metal,  and  its  man- 
ufacture into  wire,  tin  blocking,  and  fine  castings.  Then 
there  were  chemical  works,  on  an  extensive  scale,  with  all 
buildings  and  apparatus  in  the  best  style,  and  on  the  most 
approved  modern  principles.  The  machinery  was  mostly  of 
British  manufacture,  and  the  chief  engineer,  and  some  of  the 
superintendents  of  the  different  branches,  were  English.  The 
operatives  were  all  natives,  and  it  was  some  time  before  I 
could  be  reconciled  to  seeing  the  jaunty  jacket  and  sombrero 
calanes,  so  unromantically  occupied  among  the  looms  and 


88  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

furnaces.  Don  Manuel  informed  me,  that  they  found  the 
people  both  willing  to  labor  and  apt  to  learn.  The  wages 
they  received  were  so  much  higher  than  the  ordinary  rate 
of  compensation  among  the  working  classes,  that  there  was 
no  difficulty  in  securing,  always,  as  many  hands  as  the 
establishment  required.  The  iron  ore  comes  from  Marbella, 
where  the  Heredias  have  likewise  an  extensive  foundry,  and 
with  these  and  their  lead  furnaces  at  Adra,  they  give  em- 
ployment to  upward  of  two  thousand  people.  Their  estab- 
lishments have,  too,  I  learn,  been  largely  increased  since  my 
visit.  From  the  high  price  of  fuel,  and  the  difficulty  of 
obtaining  it,  together  with  the  necessarily  heavy  outlay  in 
founding  a  new  branch  of  industry,  it  is  conceded  that  these 
establishments  require,  as  certainly  they  deserve,  the  protec- 
tion of  the  government  against  foreign  competition.  Captain 
Widdrington  however  mentions,  that,  on  one  occasion,  the 
Heredias,  being  unable  to  complete  a  large  contract,  imported 
two  thousand  tons  of  iron  from  England,  as  a  substitute,  and 
suffered  a  serious  loss,  from  the  inferiority  of  the  foreign  article 
to  their  own.  It  would  seem,  from  this,  that  the  Spanish 
manufacture  might  readily  be  made  to  take  care  of  itself, 
within  a  reasonable  period.  Indeed  there  could  be  no  doubt 
of  it,  if  active  and  judicious  measures  were  adopted,  for  the 
proper  working  of  the  immense  coal-beds  of  the  Asturias,  and 
the  other  mines  of  that  necessary  fuel,  with  which  the  Penin- 
sula is  so  well  provided.  The  iron  mines  of  Marbella  are 
inexhaustible,  and  produce  from  seventy  to  eighty  per  cent, 
of  the  very  best  metal.  Catalonia  and  the  northern  provinces 
are  equally  fortunate,  in  the  possession  of  mines  of  the  very 
best  quality,  and  it  needs  only  some  little  of  ordinary  energy 
and  wisdom,  on  the  part  of  the  government  and  the  people, 
to  make  the  production  of  iron  a  source  of  the  largest  wealth 
and  prosperity.  A  few  more  such  men  as  Heredia  the  elder, 
would  work  miracles.  He  was  self-made,  and  yet  died 
enormously  wealthy,  after  a  life  of  great  mercantile  enter- 
prise and  success.  A  broad,  black  band,  upon  the  chimney- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 


tower  of  which  I  have  spoken,  marks  its  height  upon  the 
day  of  his  death,  which  took  place  but  a  few  months  before 
my  arrival  in  the  country.  There  is  to  be  an  inscription 
upon  it ;  but  his  best  monument  is  to  be  found  in  the  ex- 
ample he  gave  to  his  fellow-citizens,  and  the  impulse  he  com- 
municated to  public  industry,  at  a  time  when  it  was  almost 
dead  of  inanition . 

Malaga  is  indebted  to  Heredia,  among  other  things,  for  a 
very  pretty  establishment,  after  the  manner  of  the  Passage 
Panorama,  in  Paris,  called  the  Pasage  de  Heredia,  and 
containing  the  finest  shops  in  the  city.  It  is  there  you  find 
the  best  of  the  beautiful  clay  images,  for  which  Malaga  was 
first  made  famous  by  the  celebrated  sculptor  Leon,  whose 
descendants  still  carry  on  the  manufacture.  The  rival 
establishment  of  Jose  Cubero  is  not  far  off.  These  works 
are  not  only  remarkable,  as  delineations  of  costume,  and 
illustrations  of  life  and  manners  in  Spain,  but  sometimes 
reach  a  very  high  point  of  art,  in  their  composition  and  the 
perfection  and  finish  of  their  details.  Some  of  the  equestrian 
figures  are  really  of  great  merit,  and  there  is  now  and  then 
a  group,  from  a  bull-fight,  which  deserves  a  place  in  any 
collection.  There  is  scarcely  any  more  agreeable  or  grace- 
ful memorial  of  the  Peninsula,  for  a  traveler  to  take  home 
with  him,  and  I  am  surprised  that  they  are  not  to  be  found, 
more  frequently,  in  the  United  States,  whither  they  can  be 
carried,  with  much  facility  and  at  very  little  cost. 

The  best  houses  in  Malaga  front  upon  the  Alameda. 
Some  of  them  are  imposing  and  of  admirable  internal 
arrangement,  with  all  the  appliances  of  modern  luxury  and 
taste.  They  belong,  principally,  to  wealthy  merchants, 
whose  offices,  and  generally  their  warehouses,  are  connected 
with  their  dwellings.  I  remember  one  very  elegant  mansion, 
almost  in  sight  of  the  Custom-house,  which  is  adorned  with 
a  superb  interior  stair-case,  of  white  marble,  every  foot  of 
which,  as  I  was  credibly  informed,  was  smuggled  !  The 
Fonda  de  la  Alaineda  is  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  walk 


90  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

and  about  midway  its  length.  It  is  a  handsome  building, 
with  a  fine  portal,  and  large  iron  gates  beautifully  wrought 
at  Seville.  The  central  court  is  of  creditable  architecture 
and  proportions,  and  there  is  a  marble  stair-case  rising  from 
it,  which  is  in  excellent  taste,  and  came  lawfully,  I  trust, 
into  Malaga.  The  Fonda  was  established  by  a  company, 
principally  of  young  merchants,  whom  foreign  education  and 
travel  had  taught  the  necessity,  for  a  commercial  city,  of 
some  change  in  the  hostelry-system  of  Spain.  The  house 
had  been  opened  but  a  month  before  my  arrival,  and  was 
under  the  charge  of  Don  Jorje  Hodgson,  an  Englishman,  a 
very  courteous  and  obliging  person,  as  I  am  happy  to  bear 
witness.  It  was  arranged,  to  some  extent,  upon  the  Amer- 
ican, rather  than  the  European  plan,  having  a  table  d'hote, 
at  which  the  guests  might  take  all  their  meals,  if  they  chose, 
and  being  provided,  besides,  with  a  large,  public  sitting-room. 
The  comfort  of  this  last  is  not  a  matter  to  be  despised  by  a 
traveler,  who  having  been  unaccustomed,  at  home,  to  the 
number  of  stories  in  which  continental  hotels  rejoice,  has 
waxed  weary,  often  and  over,  at  finding  no  medium,  between 
out-of-doors  and  his  own  apartment  in  the  seventh  heaven. 
The  English  have  a  place  of  reunion  in  their  coffee-rooms — 
if  that  can  be  called  reunion,  where  each  man  takes  solemn 
and  dumb  counsel  with  his  beefsteak,  his  sherry,  and  his 
newspaper — but,  strangely  enough,  the  more  social  people 
of  the  continent  have  not  even  that  sad  convenience,  often, 
for  looking  at  each  other's  faces.  Many  of  their  best  houses 
have  a  table  d'hote  dinner,  if  you  like  it,  but,  save  at  that 
meal,  you  only  see  what  manner  of  men  your  fellow  lodgers 
are,  when  you  meet  them  on  the  long  stair-ways,  or  as  you 
go  in  and  out,  through  the  court.  Such  a  system,  of  course, 
has  its  advantages,  in  privacy  and  independence.  You  are 
not,  as  you  are  generally  compelled  to  be,  with  us,  in  the 
center  of  a  busy,  bustling,  talking,  noisy  crowd,  every  man  of 
whom  knows  your  name  and  business,  or  may  know  them  at 
a  moment's  warning,  and  many  of  whom  had  as  lief  ask  you 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  91 

about  them,  as  not.  You  are  quiet,  and  in  some  respects  as 
if  at  home.  But,  nevertheless,  a  traveler  has  often  need  of 
other  company  than  his  own  jaded  thoughts,  or  the  people 
in  the  streets  and  theaters,  and  his  inability  to  find  it,  both 
increases  the  number  of  his  weary  hours,  and  narrows  the 
sphere  of  his  enjoyment  in  quiet  and  useful  observation. 
Every  medal  has  its  reverse. 

At  the  Fonda,  there  was  generally  pleasant  company. 
The  steamer  would  bring  travelers,  twice  or  thrice  a  week, 
bound  for  Granada,  and  they  most  frequently  passed  the  day 
with  us.  On  their  return,  they  would  sometimes  have  to 
wait  a  day  or  two  for  an  opportunity  to  embark,  and  they 
would  be  at  the  Fonda  during  that  time.  There  was,  besides, 
a  small  party  of  permanent  lodgers,  English  and  Irish,  whom 
business  or  health  had  taken  to  that  cheerful  climate.  They, 
and  the  wayfarers,  generally  frequented  the  public  apart- 
ments, so  that  there  was  no  lack  of  variety.  At  the  head 
of  the  table,  usually  presided  a  young  Irish  parson,  a  near 
relative  of  a  distinguished  dignitary  of  the  Irish  Church. 
He  was  quite  a  clever  person,  and  well  educated,  too,  although, 
one  day,  when  I  was  speaking  of  the  Mississippi  River,  he 
asked  me  whether  it  was  in  the  northern  or  southern  part 
of  "  the  States."  I  had  not  the  luck  to  hear  him,  but  he 
officiated,  now  and  then,  at  the  British  consul's,  and  was, 
I  was  told,  of  excellent  gifts  in  preaching.  Being  young, 
and  choleric  from  individual  as  well  as  national  temperament, 
he  was  the  righter  of  wrongs  and  redresser  of  grievances, 
domestic  and  culinary,  in  the  establishment ;  and  if  his 
reproofs  of  sins,  in  general,  bore  any  proportion  to  those,  with 
which  he  accommodated  our  cook  and  servants,  occasionally, 
his  efforts  in  the  pulpit  must  have  been  as  full  of  emphasis 
as  unction.  How  often  did  the  name  of  unhappy  Antonio  ! 
(the  chief  waiter)  echo  through  the  dining-hall,  as  a  prelude 
to  the  summoning  of  cook  and  landlord,  to  answer  the 
enormity  of  an  under-done  duck,  or  an  over-done  sirloin  ! 
How  often  did  the  astonished  visitors,  French  and  Spanish, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 


lay  down  their  forks  and  gaze  with  astonishment,  at  the 
reshipment  of  a  heterodox  ham  back  to  its  boiler,  or  the 
suspension  of  soup,  in  mid-service,  until  it  should  regain  its 
lost  caloric  !  Yet,  out  of  office,  our  parson  was  a  pleasant 
man,  as  were  his  companions  who  made  their  home  in  the 
Fonda — and,  though  they  had  still  their  island  atmosphere 
about  them,  they  had  traveled  enough  to  be  social,  commu- 
nicative people  :  not  unwilling  to  show,  upon  occasion,  the 
intelligence  and  cordial,  manly  qualities  in  which  their  coun- 
trymen abound,  though,  when  abroad,  they  usually  seem  so 
anxious  to  conceal  them. 

I  could  not  avoid  remarking,  where  people  of  so  many 
nations  constantly  assembled,  the  strange  contrast  between 
the  English  reserve  and  self-monopoly,  and  the  free  civility 
of  continental  manners.  One  day,  I  remember,  a  Span- 
ish gentleman  dined  with  us,  on  his  way  to  the  interior. 
He  was  a  quiet,  well-bred  man,  but,  as  he  happened  to  be 
the  solitary  addition  to  our  regular  company,  there  was  less 
freedom  and  conversation  than  if  the  number  of  strangers 
had  been  larger.  But  few  remarks  were  addressed  to  him, 
and  after  a  very  silent  meal,  he  rose,  rang  the  bell,  paid  his 
fare,  and  turning  toward  us,  hat  in  hand,  made  his  exit  with 
a  courteous  bow.  "  Well,"  said  our  parson,  as  soon  as  the 
traveler  had  gone,  "for  all  that  these  fellows  are  such  savages, 
they  certainly  have  the  advantage  of  us  in  manners  !  Now 
an  Englishman  would  have  paid  his  fare,  and  as  soon  have 
thought  of  committing  suicide,  as  making  a  bow  to  a  company 
of  strangers.  He  would  have  clapped  his  hat  on,  and  turned 
his  back  on  us.."  "  Of  course  he  would,"  was  the  reply  of 
one  of  the  Englishmen  of  the  party.  "  Of  course  he  would, 
for  no  one  would  have  expected  him  to  do  otherwise  !" 
"Certainly  not,"  added  another;  "if  he  had  bowed  to  a 
table-full  of  people  whom  he  did  not  know,  they  would  have 
taken  him  to  be  crazy !"  I  could  not  avoid  thinking,  that, 
upon  such  a  state  of  facts  admitted,  there  was  some  room 
for  doubt  as  to  who  were  the  "  savages."  My  companions, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  93 

nevertheless,  conscientiously  believed,  that  it  was  the  essence 
of  civilization  to  keep  within  their  own  shells. 

The  Fonda,  besides  being  handsomely  and  conveniently 
arranged,  was  well  supplied  with  excellent  furniture,  the 
manufacture  of  the  place.  In  one  particular,  too,  it  would 
have  gratified  Mr.  Dickens,  whose  amphibious  habits  found 
such  little  scope  (he  says)  in  the  United  States.  I  mean  in 
the  abundant  supply  of  fine  water,  carried  by  pipes  into  the 
upper  stories,  and  freely  bestowed  upon  the  guests  and  their 
chambers.  There  was  a  buxom,  bright-eyed  dame,  rejoicing 
in  the  universal  name,  Antonia,  who  seemed  especially 
charged  with  administering  the  hydropathic  treatment  to 
every  thing  washable  about  the  establishment,  except  the 
fat  face  of  the  burly  porter,  below,  whom  my  eyes  once 
beheld  bathing  the  same  in  a  soup-plate  !  Antonia  was 
always  upon  parade,  with  an  armament  of  tubs  and  buckets, 
which  her  bare  white  arms  were  busy,  emptying  on  every 
thing  and,  oftener  than  was  pleasant,  upon  every  body  :  but 
she  always  begged  pardon,  with  such  a  bright  smile  and 
good-natured  lisp  and  look,  that  it  was  not  difficult  to  be 
reconciled  to  the  inundation  which  was  sure  to  follow,  when 
you  heard  her  shrill  but  merry  song  approaching.  The 
major-domo,  Antonio,  was  a  "  rock-scorpion,"  as  they  call 
the  natives  of  Gibraltar,  and  he  of  course  spoke  English 
perfectly,  besides  having  a  respectable  smattering  of  French ; 
accomplishments  of  no  mean  importance,  in  a  country,  of 
whose  language  travelers  seem,  generally  and  upon  principle, 
to  have  made  up  their  minds  to  know  nothing.  Under 
Antonio's  drill  and  interpretation,  the  domestics  were  made 
to  understand  and  do  the  bidding  of  the  guests,  to  a  marvel, 
so  that  I  can  scarce  recall  a  place  where  travelers  were 
taken  in  more  pleasantly.  I  do  not  know  whether  it 
was  accident — sometimes  I  thought  it  was  meant  for  a 
national  compliment — but  Antonio  used,  generally,  to  send 
upon  my  messages  a  coal-black,  oily  negro,  as  Virginia-look- 
ing as  if  he  had  been  born  under  the  "  compromises  of  the 


94  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

Constitution."  He  was  known  throughout  the  establishment 
by  the  euphonious  and  polite  appellation  of  "  el  moreno"  or 
"the  brown;"  albeit  the  night,  upon  whose  cheek  the  beauty 
of  young  Juliet  hung,  could  never  have  been  darker.  "  Tell 
the  negro  to  come  to  me,"  said  I,  one  day,  to  the  fat  hero 
of  the  soup-plate.  "  El  negro!"  was  the  reply — the  short 
Andalusian  jacket  swelling  with  portly  indignation — "  El 
negro  !  querrd  su  merced  decir  el  moreno  ?"  (The  negro ! 
perhaps  your  worship  means  the  brown  ?) 

But  something  too  much  of  the  Fonda  and  its  occupants 
— a  trespass  which  will  perhaps  be  excused,  as  it  has  not 
been  without  the  charitable  purpose  of  undeceiving  those  of 
our  countrymen,  who  shrink  from  seeking  the  sweet  reno- 
vating climate  and  charming  scenes  of  Southern  Spain, 
under  the  impression  that  Maritornes  is  still  the  presiding 
deity  of  its  caravanseras,  dispensing  nothing  but  filth,  dis- 
comfort, garlic,  and  privation.  While  on  the  subject,  I  may 
as  well  further  state,  for  the  benefit  of  whom  it  may  con- 
cern, that  indulgence  in  the  odoriferous  vegetable  just  named 
is  purely  a  voluntary  thing,  so  far  as  my  experience  goes, 
for  I  had  never  the  luck  to  have  it  served  to  me,  mfonda, 
venta,  or  ventorrillo.  Now  and  then,  of  course,  among 
peasants,  muleteers,  and  often  better  people,  you  would  have 
savory  evidence  of  its  use,  but  the  caterers  for  travelers  have 
learned  that  strangers  hold  it  no  luxury,  and  they  prepare 
their  food  accordingly.  Even  among  the  inhabitants  them- 
selves, I  was  told  that  garlic  had  grown  decidedly  less  pop- 
ular, and  was  subsiding  fast,  from  a  responsible  and  inde- 
pendent prominence  of  its  own,  like  the  philosophy  in  one  of 
Bulwer's  novels,  xinto  a  well  disguised  sub-flavor,  like  the 
morality  in  the  same.  About  banditti  and  robbers  generally, 
who,  next  to  garlic  and  popery,  are  the  terror  and  the  horror 
of  Spain  to  most  wayfarers,  I  may  have  occasion  to  speak 
hereafter. 

The  season  of  my  first  visit  to  Malaga  was  most  appro- 
priate for  horseback  exercise,  and  I  availed  myself,  often,  of  a 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  05 

friend's  kind  guidance,  to  ride  over  many  of  the  rugged  but 
picturesque  hills  which  encompass  the  city.  My  first  excur- 
sion was  upon  the  Granada  road,  which  climbs  the  highest 
of  the  near  mountains.  The  sun  was  rising,  and  the  dew 
was  heavy  on  the  grass,  as  we  cantered  up,  through  throngs 
of  busy  market-people,  who  were  just  coming  into  town. 
About  a  mile  and  a  half  upon  our  journey,  we  turned,  and 
the  whole  city  and  its  valley  lay  in  beautiful  light  and  dis- 
tinctness before  us.  Far  off,  in  front,  the  sea  rolled  blue  and 
bounding,  with  just  sails  enough  visible,  to  suit  the  quiet  life 
of  morning.  Looming  large  above  the  city  was  the  huge 
cathedral,  which  is  a  massive  and  imposing  pile,  whatever 
critics  may  say  of  its  details.  The  smoke,  which  ascended 
from  the  tower-like  chimney  of  Heredia's  furnace,  contrasted 
darkly  with  the  thin  mists  which  still  hung,  here  and  there, 
around  the  battlements  of  the  Gibal-faro.  Upon  the  hills 
about  us,  through  which  our  road  was  cloven,  the  fresh 
green  vines  were  springing  luxuriantly  forth,  with  the  first 
impulse  of  the  spring.  Around  the  vineyards,  tall,  formida- 
ble hedges  of  the  prickly  pear  and  the  gigantic  aloe  were  a 
terror  to  all  trespassers  ;  while,  in  every  nook  and  corner, 
flowers  of  all  hues  and  kinds— from  the  high  nodding  red 
poppy,  to  the  humblest  little  creeping  specks  of  blue,  and 
white,  and  yellow — were  making  the  rich  sward  beautiful. 
Here  and  there,  upon  a  hill-side,  far  before  us,  or  behind, 
was  a  little  wood  of  olive-trees.  Upon  another,  or  in  a 
meadow,  or  a  green  reach  down  below,  were  fragrant  groves 
of  oranges.  The  Guadalmedina,  with  a  bold  aqueduct  stalk- 
ing over  its  naked  bed,  crept  along  among  the  stones,  with 
what  water  it  could  muster  in  the  valley.  Hard  by  the 
city,  the  Campo-santo  sent  up  the  bright-tiled  dome  of  its 
little  temple,  among  monuments  half  hid  by  mournful  foli- 
age. The  country  houses  among  the  hills,  occasionally 
surrounded  by  stifF,  sad  cypresses,  were  relieved  by  the 
cheerful  pleasure-cottages  nearer  town,  whose  gardens  were 
redolent  of  all  the  shrubs  that  know  any  thing  of  bloom  or 


96  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

fragrance.  Down  the  hills  came  muleteers,  with  their  con- 
voys in  long  trains,  and  now  and  then  a  straggling  lad,  with 
an  armada  of  donkeys,  gave  "buenos  dias  /"  or  "  con  Dios  /" 
as  if  he  were  an  admiral.  All  wore  the  calanes,  cocked 
jauntily,  the  crimson  sash,  the  leather  botines  or  leggins, 
wrought  cunningly,  and  the  sempiternal  cloak,  tossed  into 
drapery,  even  by  a  clown,  that  would  make  the  fortune 
of  a  sculptor.  I  should  not  venture  to  say  it,  had  not  Mr. 
Ford  said  something  like  it ;  but  the  highest  encomium  I 
could  pass  upon  the  famous  Aristides  of  the  Neapolitan 
Museum,  would  be,  to  say,  that  he  wears  his  cloak  almost  as 
gracefully  as  an  Andalusian  Majo,  at  a  merry-making  or  a 
fair. 

The  Hermitas  or  Hermitages,  among  the  hills  toward  the 
rear  of  the  city,  on  the  left,  were  another  attraction,  those 
fine  mornings.  Nothing  now  remains  of  them,  but  a  small 
chapel  and  some  ruined  walls,  upon  a  little  platform,  high 
up  and  solitary,  but  of  romantic  situation  and  prospect. 
There  could  hardly  be  a  sadder  token  of  neglect  and  desola- 
tion, than  the  grass,  grown  rank  upon  the  era,  or  "  treading 
floor,"  as  we  very  descriptively  call  it,  in  some  parts  of  the 
United  States.  The  ox  that  trod  out  the  grain  had  been 
muzzled  ;  the  hermits  were  making  their  bread  elsewhere. 
The  road  by  which  we  went  up,  passing  the  large,  deserted 
convent  of  la  Victoria,  becomes  but  a  steep  and  rugged 
mule-path,  as  soon  as  it  leaves  the  plain,  but  it  winds 
among  oranges,  figs,  and  olives,  with  vine  and  grain  fields, 
and  many  flowers.  The  views,  down  over  the  vega  and 
thence  to  the  city,  the  mountains,  and  the  sea,  were  a  beau- 
tiful variation  of  the  picture  of  which  I  have  already  at- 
tempted to  convey  an  idea.  We  met  but  few  wayfarers 
among  the  rocks  ;  but  we  were  not  solitary,  for  the  peasants 
were  toiling  lustily,  among  the  vines  and  olives.  We  have, 
at  home,  or  at  least  I  had,  before  I  left  it,  some  rather  fan- 
ciful notions  of  vineyards  and  their  beauty.  I  had  imagined 
them,  not,  to  be  sure,  "  purple  and  gushing"  at  all  seasons, 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  97 

but  still  fair  enough,  in  far  southern  climates,  to  have  al- 
ways some  traces  of  the  luxuriance,  that  becomes  "Baccha- 
nal profusion"  at  the  vintage.  I  was  first  undeceived,  when 
I  traveled  down  the  Rhone,  where  the  dismantled  vineyards 
looked  like  winter  corn-fields,  with  the  stalks  standing  ;  or 
bean-rows,  with  short  poles,  before  the  vines  are  up.  In 
Lombardy  and  Tuscany,  however,  though  the  season  was 
unpropitious  in  every  way,  I  saw  enough  to  realize  my  ideas 
of  what  the  vine  might  be.  From  tree  to  tree  and  arbor  to 
arbor,  the  long  festoons  hung  and  waved,  gracefully  and  softly, 
in  the  cold  spring  wind,  and  it  needed  only  a  little  fancy  to 
supply  the  foliage,  as,  in  the  Alhambra,  to  fill  the  naked 
walls  with  the  bright  and  gorgeous  drapery,  which  once  cur- 
tained their  gossamer  arabesques.  About  Malaga,  the  culti- 
vation was  still  different.  The  whole  plant  was  cut  down  to 
the  very  root ;  and  when  vegetation  was  backward ,  on  a  cold 
hill-side,  the  soil  was  perfectly  naked.  Where  the  exposure 
was  more  genial,  the  tendrils,  springing  from  the  very  surface, 
though  luxuriant  and  green  enough,  scarcely  gave  promise  of 
the  fruit  and  verdure,  with  which  they  were  so  soon  to  mantle 
the  hills.  In  Italy,  there  is  no  doubt,  they  sacrifice  production 
to  beauty,  but  I  could  not  help  wishing  for  their  long  arcades, 
even  amid  the  gushing  freshness  of  the  Andalusian  spring. 

One  day,  I  visited  a  liacienda  in.  the  neighborhood.  We 
rode  for  a  mile  or  two,  almost  dry-footed,  along  the  bed  of 
the  Guadalmedina  ;  and  thence,  diving  into  some  cool  re- 
cesses among  the  hills,  we  traveled  about  the  same  distance 
further,  before  reaching  our  destination.  The  liacienda  is 
now  neglected  as  a  residence,  though  it  is  in  excellent  culti- 
vation. The  orange  and  lemon  trees  filled  great  orchards  : 
the  fruit  in  every  stage  of  ripeness,  hanging,  strange  to  say, 
beneath  clusters  of  most  odorous  blossoms.  The  young 
fruit  of  the  fig  and  pear,  the  apricot  and  nectarine;  though 
as  yet  in  its  earliest  stages,  was  in  fine  profusion.  The 
wheat  and  barley  were  advanced,  with  the  peculiar  forward- 
ness more  remarkable  in  the  vega  of  Malaga  than  any  other 

E 


GLIMPSES  OF    SPAIN. 


of  the  grain-growing  districts  of  the  Peninsula.*  The  rose- 
trees  bent  beneath  their  flowers;  dahlias  already  glowed 
luxuriantly ;  the  carnations  were  just  bursting  out ;  there 
was  scarlet  stock  by  beds-full ;  arbors  full  of  multi-floras, 
among  which  many  birds  were  singing,  and  under  whose 
shade  and  that  of  the  abundant  groves  around,  there  were 
stone  benches  all  about,  on  which  you  could  rest,  and  revel 
in  the  boundless  exuberance  of  nature.  The  dwelling  was 
upon  columns,  rising  from  an  artificial  basin  of  running  water, 
pure  from  the  mountains,  glistening  with  gold  and  silver 
fish,  and  as  cool  and  summer-like  as  heart  could  covet. 
Not  far  off,  there  was  a  reservoir,  for  the  purposes  of  irriga- 
tion, and  further  on,  a  fine  large  fish-pond,  surrounded  by  a 
railing  of  iron,  and  shaded,  all  along  its  sides,  by  a  sweet 
arbor,  over  which  vines  were  trained  and  clustering.  It 
was  hard  to  understand  how  the  proprietors  of  such  a  spot 
had  been  induced  to  desert  it,  for  surely  it  would  not  have 
been  easy  to  find  a  more  charming  retreat  from  bustle  and 
sunshine.  The  hot  and  busy  city,  glaring  in  the  distance,  lost 
half  its  sultriness,  as  you  looked  over  it  to  the  wide,  quiet 
sea,  and  then,  around  you  were  the  cooling  waters,  the  pure 
air,  the  deep,  dark  gorges  running  down  into  the  meadows, 
all  alive  with  "  sunny  spots  of  greenery." 

The  Sunday  after  my  arrival  (remember,  reader,  Anda- 
lusia knows  nothing  of  the  Sabbatarian  theology)  was  set  apart 
by  my  friends  for  a  jaunt  to  the  country.  Torre-molino,  a 
pleasant  hamlet,  two  or  three  leagues  down  the  coast,  was 
to  be  our  place  of  rendezvous,  and  as  my  strength  did  not 
permit  me  to  ride  so  far  on  horseback,  it  was  determined 
that  we  should  all  go  in  carriages.  The  best  vehicle  was 
given  to  me,  and  I  protest  against  being  considered  un- 
grateful if  I  describe  it.  It  was  called  a  bombe,  a  trans- 
planted word,  and,  I  take  it  for  granted,  from  the  French. 
The  rest  of  the  party  were  to  ride  in  calesas.  The  calesa 

*  It  is  a  month  in  advance  of  the  vega  of  Granada. — Spain  and 
the  Spaniards,  401. 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  99 

is  a  gig,  in  the  tender  infancy  of  that  unsophisticated  con- 
veyance. It  has  a  high,  bright-painted  back,  generally 
yellow,  with  an  immense  red  and  green  flower-pot  and 
flowers  to  suit,  gorgeously  delineated  in  its  midst.  There 
is  a  primitive,  arched,  leathern  covering,  of  middle-age 
architecture,  studded  with  brass  nails,  and  behind  all,  there 
is  a  huge  platform.  The  body  is  perched  directly  upon  the 
axle-tree,  without  any  pretensions  to  springs,  unless  two 
straps,  on  which  it  lays  claim  to  swing,  may  haply  so  be 
called.  The  bombe  is  the  calesa,  in  a  state  of  transition  ; 
the  worm  on  its  way  to  being  a  moth.  It  has  a  sort  of 
aboriginal  springs  to  it,  very  like  some  that  may  be  seen  by 
the  curious,  rusting,  from  year  to  year,  in  the  yard  of  a 
country  coach-shop,  in  Delaware,  or  on  the  Eastern  Shore 
of  Maryland,  or  down  in  "  old  Virginia."  Foot-board  nor 
dash-board,  has  either  bombe  or  calesa.  The  driver  sits  in 
the  bottom  of  the  carriage,  with  his  legs  out,  as  you  may 
see  a  little  negro  driving  his  mistress  to  church,  in  the  land 
of  gigs,  just  named.  His  horse  has  a  tall,  monumental  look- 
ing saddle,  over  which  there  swings  a  strap,  supporting  the 
shafts,  on  the  most  approved  "  self-adjusting"  principle. 
Whatever  else  there  is  of  harness,  is  duly  tufted  with  red 
worsted,  fore  and  aft.  The  reins  are  of  rope,  and  the  charger 
bears  a  string  of  bells,  so  that  if  you  have  not  altogether  the 
gliding  motion  of  a  sleigh-ride,  you  are  compensated  by 
something  of  its  music.  Fortunately  for  the  horse,  he  is 
placed  reasonably  near  the  vehicle,  unlike  the  practice  with 
some  of  the  antiquated  riding-machines  I  occasionally  saw 
upon  the  Alameda,  from  which  the  mules  seemed  harnessed 
as  far  as  practicable,  as  if  the  power  of  the  animal  were 
in  the  direct  ratio  of  the  square  of  his  distance.  Not- 
withstanding, too,  all  its  eccentricities,  our  bombe  was  com- 
fortable enough,  and  the  driver,  a  shrewd  Andaluz,  full 
of  life  and  humor,  made  himself  just  as  easy,  as  if  he 
were  our  companion,  host,  or  friend.  Our  road  lay  to 
the  southwest,  nearly  parallel  with  the  sea,  and  we  found 


100  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

it  very  pleasant  for  some  time,  while  we  were  upon  the 
smooth  and  fertile  vega.  The  usual  profusion  of  flowers 
greeted  us  every  where  ;  the  scarlet  poppy  nodding  gracefully 
above  them  all ;  and  our  road  was  lined  by  hedges  of  green 
cane,  its  foliage  almost  as  luxuriant  as  that  of  Indian  corn, 
relieving  pleasantly  the  uncouth,  thorny  mass  which  makes 
the  prickly  pear,  and  all  the  cacti,  as  ungraceful  in  the 
plant  as  they  are  radiant  in  blossom.  From  looking  at  the 
plenty  with  which  the  vega  was  teeming,  it  was  hard  to 
believe,  what  I  fear  is  too  true,  that  nature  had  much  more 
to  do  with  its  abundance  than  man.  In  about  an  hour,  we 
reached  the  Malaga  River  (Ford  calls  it  the  Guadajore), 
and  crossed  its  rapid  and  full  stream,  at  some  distance  below 
the  huge  unfinished  aqueduct  that  bestrides  it.  We  then 
skirted  the  pleasant  little  village  of  Churriana,  where  many 
of  the  wealthier  Malaguenos  have  summer  cottages ;  and 
mounting  a  rugged  and  steep  hill,  which  developed  the 
superiority  of  our  bombe  over  the  back-breaking  vehicles  to 
which  we  had  preferred  it,  we  made  our  way  as  well  as  we 
could,  to  the  Buen  Retiro,  a  noted  country  place  belonging 
to  the  Conde  de  Villalcazar.  Our  road  lay  over  stones  and 
ruts,  which  called  our  driver's  topographical  abilities  into 
perpetual  play,  and  he  would,  at  every  obstruction,  leap 
from  his  perch,  run  wildly  to  the  horse's  head,  guide  him,  at 
full  trot,  over  crag  and  gully,  and  then  spring  back  to  take 
his  fair  share  of  the  jolting.  Olive  and  orange  plantations 
were  now  thick  around  us.  Large  white  lilies  began  to 
show  themselves  all  over  the  fields,  and  it  seemed  that  the 
flora  became  more  varied  and  luxuriant,  if  possible,  at  every 
turn.  Arrived  at  the  gate  of  the  Retiro,  our  driver  plied 
the  knocker  vigorously,  and  a  weasel-faced  old  man  peeped 
through  the  wicket  suspiciously,  upon  the  summons.  Being 
assured,  however,  that  we  were  peaceful  people,  by  the  pro- 
duction of  a  permit  which  my  friend  had  obtained  in  town, 
from  the  administrador  of  the  proprietor,  he  opened-sesame, 
with  all  courtesy,  and  we  were  let  in.  The  grounds  are 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  101 

quite  extensive  and  fantastically  laid  out,  with  a  profusion 
of  shells  and  petrifactions  of  all  sorts  around  the  flower-beds ; 
and  busts  and  heads,  of  bad  sculpture,  peeping,  with  dislocated 
eyes  over  fractured  noses,  all  along  the  walks.  There  was, 
however,  such  a  profusion  of  beautiful  and  fragrant  vegeta- 
tion— such  wealth  of  flowers  and  fruit-trees,  long  shady 
alleys,  green  walks,  and  bowers,  and  hedges — that  in  spite  of 
much  dilapidation  and  neglect,  we  wandered,  long  and 
pleasantly,  among  their  mazes.  Then  too,  the  hacienda  is 
on  a  hill-side,  and  there  was  a  flood  of  bright  mountain 
water,  which  was  all  about  us  in  ponds  and  lakes,  canals 
and  fountains,  glancing,  gurgling,  murmuring,  and  bringing 
freshness  as  it  flowed.  The  jets-d'eau  were  quite  a  wonder, 
for  their  copiousness  and  variety,  arid  as  our  permit  included 
an  authority  to  have  them  put  in  play,  we  soon  had  the 
whole  garden  dancing  and  glittering  in  the  sun.  Down  on 
a  bed  of  rustic  work  and  grass,  a  plaster  shepherd  lay 
among  the  fountains,  colored  like  life,  and  looking,  at  a  dis- 
tance, quite  as  natural.  Just  as  the  waters  sprang  into 
spray  around  him,  and  when,  according  to  the  rules  of 
pastorals,  he  should  have  tuned  the  pipe  which  he  was 
holding  to  his  lips,  a  donkey,  in  the  grove  hard  by,  till  then 
unseen,  thought  proper  to  lift  up  his  pleasant  voice,  in  all 
the  most  musical  varieties  of  its  gamut.  It  was  Iriarte's 
"burro  flautista"  with  scenery  and  decorations.  Two  or 
three  families  of  plain  people  from  Malaga,  were  enjoying 
the  Retiro  for  the  day,  and  the  privilege  of  seeing  the  water 
(las  aguas)  which  they  had  not  influence  to  obtain,  made  us 
unknowingly,  their  benefactors,  which  they  were  not  slow 
to  acknowledge.  They  had  with  them  their  guitars  and 
castanets,  and  it  would  have  been  hard  to  find  a  livelier 
or  more  happy  party.  No  doubt  they  had  also  provision 
for  their  frugal  meal,  and  made  quite  a  day  of  it,  for  we 
saw  them  in  the  evening,  returning  upon  their  donkeys  (our 
musical  friend  included)  and  they  were  as  smiling  as  if  all 
had  gone  very  well. 


102  GLIMPSES  OP   SPAIN. 

The  dwelling  at  the  Retiro  is  shabby  enough,  and  espe- 
cially for  the  house  of  a  Conde,  but  the  owner  has  not 
inhabited  it  for  years,  and  the  place  is  only  valued  for  its 
products.  The  pictures  that  are  left,  prove  conclusively  that 
bad  painting,  like  bad  wine,  is  none  the  better  for  age. 
With  the  exception  of  one  or  two  tables  of  Florentine  mosaic, 
greatly  dilapidated,  a  buhl  cabinet,  quite  scaly,  and  a  bath- 
room of  marble  which  holds  its  own  a  little,  there  are  no 
signs  remaining  about  the  house,  of  taste,  or  wealth,  or  even 
common  comfort. 

Leaving  the  Retiro  and  meeting  here  and  there  upon  the 
lonely  road,  a  horseman  with  his  firelock  hanging  at  his 
cantle,  and  partly  covered,  like  himself,  by  the  folds  of  his 
large  cloak — or  an  occasional  goat-herd  in  brown  cloak  and 
peaked  hat,  in  color  and  costume  almost  the  very  fellow  to 
his  goats,  we  drove,  after  a  little  space,  around  the  almond 
orchard  of  the  Prussian  consul,  and  then  passed  up  a  fine 
broad  avenue  to  the  gate  of  his  villa,  which  was  opened  by 
an  attendant  who  carried  a  firelock  also.  The  house  is 
a  very  pretty  and  tasteful  summer  residence,  with  long 
gallery  and  terrace.  The  grounds  are  laid  out  with  great 
neatness  and  are  kept  and  tended  with  a  careful  industry, 
which  would  make  the  Retiro  quite  a  splendid  affair.  We 
wandered  for  some  time  through  the  garden,  from  one  long 
orange  and  vine-covered  alley  to  another,  with  the  choicest 
flowers  striving  to  outbloom  each  other,  and  a  profusion  of 
fine  fruit-trees,  promising  plenty  for  autumn,  to  match  the 
prodigality  of  spring.  Having  received  our  nosegays  and 
paid  our  pesetas,  as  in  duty  bound,  we  were  again  at  the 
disposal  of  our  Jehu,  who  turned  his  horse's  head  at  once 
toward  Torre-molino.  The  roads  were  not  very  pleasant, 
bombe-cally  considered,  but  picturesque  enough,  for  there  was 
a  high  brown  hill  which  looked  gravely  down  on  us,  and  we 
in  our  turn,  looked  over  a  landscape,  alternately  beautiful  and 
barren,  down  upon  Malaga  and  the  sea.  When  we  reached 
our  destination  we  found  dinner  prepared  for  us,  at  a  charrn- 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  103 

ing  little  pleasure-house,  whose  tasteful  gardens  gave  us  fine 
views  of  the  Mediterranean,  from  their  shady  arbors,  and 
supplied  our  board  with  a  profusion  of  fresh  strawberries, 
not  quite  so  poetical,  perhaps,  as  sea-views,  but  rather 
preferable,  at  the  moment,  inasmuch  as  I  had,  of  late,  had 
so  much  less  of  them. 

Our  calesero  set  his  horse  to  eating  cut  grass,  at  once,  from 
the  bottom  of  the  bombe,  outside  the  gate,  and  went  himself 
to  take  his  puchero  with  a  crowd  of  stout,  copper-pitching 
sinners,  who  were  grouped  upon  the  green.  I  never  saw 
finer  looking  fellows  than  they  were.  Brawny  and  broad, 
yet  tall  and  well-proportioned,  they  wore  their  tight-fitting 
garments  over  limbs  which  were  the  perfection  of  active  and 
athletic  manhood.  We  stood  for  a  long  while  watching 
their  sport,  and  waiting  for  the  friends  who  were  to  join  us ; 
but  they  were  detained  at  home  by  sudden  and  deep  family 
affliction,  and  we  hastened  back,  in  a  very  different  spirit 
from  that  in  which  the  morning  was  begun.  Upon  the 
road,  we  overtook  a  slow  procession  of  calesas  and  great 
lumbering  coaches  of  the  past  or  a  previous  century,  looking 
like  land-galleys,  and  almost  as  fit  for  oars  as  wheels.  Our 
bombe  went  proudly  by  them,  as  rapidly  as  if  they  had  been 
anchored,  and  we  reached  Malaga  by  dusk.  Whether  they 
ever  arrived  in  port,  I  have  no  means  of  knowing. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Cathedral — Ford  and  Widdrington — Society  in  Malaga — The 
Malaguenas — Slanders  of  Tourists — Female  Travelers — Spanish 
Hospitality — Letters  of  Introduction — Dinners — Courtship  and 
.Marriage — Medical  Men — Funeral  Ceremonies  and  Customs  of 
Mourning. 

THE  public  buildings  of  Malaga,  as  I  have  said,  are  of  no 
great  importance  generally,  but  the  Cathedral  certainly 
deserves  something  more  than  the  contemptuous  notice  which 
Ford  takes  of  it.  The  passage  in  which  he  refers  to  it,  is 
so  fair  a  specimen  of  the  temper  and  spirit  of  his  criticisms 
generally,  and  their  taste  frequently,  that  I  give  it  to  the 
reader.  "  The  original  design  by  Diego  de  Siloe,  was  de- 
parted from  by  each  succeeding  architect ;  now  it  is  a 
pasticcio  which  will  never  please  any  but  the  Malaguenos, 
who  are  better  judges  of  raisins  than  of  the  reasons  of  good 
taste.  The  fa9ade  stands  between  two  towers  :  one  estd  par 
acabar,  and  the  other  is  drawn  out  like  a  telescope,  with  a 

pepper-box  dome The  interior  is  a  failure.      The  roof 

is  groined  in  a  thready,  meager  pattern,  while  a  heavy 
cornice  is  supported  by  grouped  Corinthian  pillars,  placed 
back  to  back  on  ill-proportioned  pedestals  !"  A  more  culti- 
vated traveler,  and  one  whose  taste  is  open  to  no  suspicion 
of  raisins,  has  pronounced  quite  a  different  verdict  upon  the 
matter  in  question.  It  is  worth  quoting,  not  only  for  the 
sake  of  impartiality,  but  as  a  curious  specimen  of  the  extent 
to  which  critics  may  disagree.  "  The  Cathedral  of  Malaga," 
says  Captain  Widdrington,  "  is  a  magnificent  structure,  and 
kept  in  a  style  of  neatness  which  can  not  be  excelled.  It 
contains  some  admirable  works  of  Mena,  Michaeli,  and  of 
other  artists."  And  again :  "  The  effect  is  much  lighter 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  105 

than  that  of  Granada,  and  the  modern  additions  have  been 
made  with  good  taste,  although  of  different  design  from  the 
original  building.  .  .  .  The  sculpture  in  the  choir  is  excel- 
lent." Still  further — "  Gilding  is  much  employed,  and  with 
good  taste,  to  ornament  different  parts  of  the  edifice.  The 
order  is  Corinthian,  and  as  the  height  is  much  less  and  does 
not  require  it,  the  piloni,  or  pillars  to  support  the  roof,  are 
lighter  and  more  elegant  than  those  at  Granada.  The 
whole  effect  is  cheerful  and  pleasing,"  &c.  I  confess,  for 
my  humble  part,  that  I  had  the  temerity  not  to  think  ill  of 
the  Cathedral,  within  or  without,  although  certainly  I  ad- 
mired, much  more,  the  lofty  dome  and  bold  arches  at  Granada. 
The  reader,  curious  in  such  matters,  will  find  two  beautiful 
views  of  the  Malaga  Cathedral,  in  the  Landscape  Annual  of 
1836,  the  fidelity  of  which  will  enable  him  to  judge,  how  far 
the  grocery  features  of  Mr.  Ford's  descriptions  are  applicable. 
The  society  of  Malaga  must  be  very  agreeable  to  those 
who  have  an  opportunity  of  prolonging  the  pleasant  experi- 
ence upon  which  a  short  stay  scarcely  permitted  me  to  enter. 
English  and  French  are  very  generally  and  fluently  spoken 
by  the  younger  men,  a  large  number  of  whom  have  been  edu- 
cated in  France,  England,  or  the  United  States.  In  the  streets, 
a  stranger  constantly  hears  the  familiar  sound  of  his  native 
language,  and  at  the  circulo,  or  club,  those  I  have  mentioned 
are  always  in  one's  ear.  The  circulo  is  a  most  convenient 
and  comfortable  establishment,  fronting  upon  the  harbor,  and 
provided  with  all  the  appliances  for  whiling,  pleasantly,  away, 
the  odd  hours  that  might  hang  heavily.  It  is  supplied  with 
the  principal  English  and  continental  papers,  and  is,  of  course, 
the  center  of  commercial  intelligence.  The  entry  of  your 
name  by  a  member,  gives  you  the  freedom  of  the  apartments, 
where  you  may  find,  at  any  time,  a  cool  orchata  and  a  com- 
municative companion.  For  those  who  enjoy  billiards  and 
cards,  there  are  the  needful  facilities,  together  with  reading- 
rooms  for  the  silent,  and  conversation-rooms  for  th.6  social. 
A  stranger,  if  he  be  wise,  is  generally  of  these  last,  and  he 


106  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

finds,  in  the  cordial  manners  and  intelligence  of  those  he 
meets,  every  inducement  he  could  desire,  to  indulge  his  in- 
clination. 

Of  the  gentler  sex,  one  must  needs  speak  carefully,  since 
many  travelers  have  disgraced  themselves  and  traduced  the 
fair  Malaguenas,  by  stories  which,  even  if  true,  ought,  of 
themselves,  to  discredit  any  one  who  would  repeat  them.  Of 
"  the  traveling  bagmen,  and  half-fledged  subalterns,"  who 
have  transgressed  in  the  premises,  Captain  Widdrington  has 
taken  due  notice  in  his  last  book,  and  Christopher  North,  in 
his  review  of  that  work,  has  promised  to  look  out  for  similar 
offenders.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  castigation  administered 
will  be  in  proper  style  and  due  quantity  ;  for  the  frank  and 
unreserved  cordiality  of  manner  with  which  strangers  are 
received  in  Malaga,  and  which  may  have  suggested  the 
absurd  conclusions  at  which  some  of  them  have  professed  to 
arrive,  gives  certainly  the  greatest  heinousness  to  their 
breaches  of  the  laws  of  hospitality.  In  the  United  States, 
we  have  known  something  of  such  matters.  We  could  give 
the  Spaniards  the  benefit  of  some  experience  in  the  folly  of 
supposing,  that  because  a  man  writes  pleasantly,  and  has  a 
name,  he  needs  must  feel  the  instincts  and  understand  the 
obligations  of  a  gentleman.  We  could  illustrate,  by  exam- 
ples of  some  small-souled  people,  made  giddy  by  courtesy 
misconstrued  into  homage,  who  have  been  weak  enough  to 
make  a  shabby  jest,  of  kindness,  whose  exaggeration  furnish- 
ed their  chief  stock  of  merits. 

The  Malaguenas,  I  am  bound  to  say,  appeared  remark- 
able to  me  rather  for  their  grace,  and  gentle,  feminine  bear- 
ing, than  any  peculiar  beauty  of  feature,  although  it  is  by  no 
means  rare  to  catch  glimpses  among  them  of  the  radiant 
Arab  type.  The  proverbial  expression  in  regard  to  them 
encourages  me  in  my  way  of  thinking,  for  while  it  calls  them 
"  muy  kalagiienas"  (very  fascinating  or  enchanting),  it 
leaves  their  beauty  unsung.  There  is  a  familiar  verse, 
too,  which  darkly  insinuates,  that  although  they  are  re- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  107 

nowned  for  loveliness,  the  lion  is  not  quite  so  fierce  as  he  is 
painted  ! — 

"  Malaga  tiene  la  fama 
De  las  mujeres  bonitas  : 
Mas  no  es  tanfiero  el  leon 
Como  las  jentes  lo  pintan  /" 

As  they  walk  upon  the  Alameda,  the  Malaguenas  have 
no  superiors,  unless  it  be  among  their  far-famed  sisters  of 
Cadiz.  I  had  abundant  opportunities  of  comparing  them 
with  the  women  of  other  countries.  Malaga  is  the  sea-port 
by  which  strangers  generally  seek  access  to  Granada,  and 
the  steamer,  which  arrived  twice  or  three  times  a  week, 
had  usually  a  fair  proportion  of  female  passengers,  English, 
French,  and  now  and  then  German,  who  of  course  made 
their  appearance  upon  the  Alameda*  as  soon  as  the  afternoon 
walk  began.  The  contrast  was  an  amusing  one,  and  an 
idler  like  myself  might  be  pardoned  for  the  lack  of  better  oc- 
cupation than  that  of  watching  it.  While  the  fair  strangers, 
with  their  unseemly  bonnets  and  huge  green  vails,  seemed 
bent  on  disguising  their  charms,  and  giving  to  their  appear- 
ance a  uniformity  of  uncomeliness,  the  Malaguena  wore  her 
dark  mantilla,  with  its  black  lace  just  fringing  her  cheek, 
and  its  simple  form  displaying,  unembarrassed,  the  peculiar 
graces  of  her  fine  bust  and  peerless  carriage.  The  strangers 
wore  the  last  parti-colored  patterns  from  Paris,  with  such 
flounces  and  fillings  as  were  orthodox :  the  Malaguena 
scarce  ever  varied  the  plain  silk,  whose  adaptation  to  her 
figure  was  always  a  triumph  of  taste,  and  whose  dark,  rich 
shade  gave  realce,  as  she  would  call  it,  to  her  complexion. 
Arid  then  how  differently  they  walked  ! — it  seemed  scarcely 
meant  for  the  same  sort  of  proceeding.  The  light,  thorough- 
bred step  of  the  Malaguena — "la  finesse  du  cheval  Arabe" 
as  M.  Gautier  has  it— displayed  a  symmetry  about  the  loco- 
motive apparatus,  which  deserved  a  Bridgewater  Treatise. 
The  blooming  Anglo-Saxon,  on  the  contrary,  though  she 
eschewed  the  shuffle  of  the  occasional  Teutonic  specimen 


108  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

we  had,  stalked,  nevertheless,  like  a  marching  grenadier, 
among  the  Andaluzas  :  her  long  dress,  ungraceful  it  was,  not 
long  enough  to  conceal  the  fact,  that  her  peculiar  style  of 
movement,  though  no  doubt  excellent  for  health,  was  decid- 
edly unfavorable  to  feet  and  ankles. 

Attractive,  however,  as  the  Malaguena  is,  upon  the  paseo, 
the  private  circle  is  the  place  of  her  especial  triumph.  She 
is  eminently  domestic — at  least  so  say  her  lords  and  masters 
— full  of  amiability  and  household  industry  ;  kind  to  her 
servants,  acceptable  to  her  friends,  and  cordial  to  the  stran- 
gers that  are  within  her  gates.  One  of  the  first  things, 
indeed,  that  strike  a  traveler  of  observation,  after  he  has 
been  admitted  into  the  inner  life  of  Spanish  families,  is  the 
closeness  and  tenderness  of  the  domestic  relations  and  affec- 
tions. No  matter  how  distant  their  degree,  kinsmen  and 
kinswomen  seemed  never  to  forget,  what,  among  colder 
nations,  are  held  very  brittle  ties.  Nor  is  there  any  affecta- 
tion about  it,  for  it  involves  constant  and  affectionate  inter- 
course, and  the  interchange  of  all  imaginable  good  offices. 
This  consideration  for  relatives  is  extended  to  the  friends 
who  join  the  circle  under  their  auspices.  A  single  visit, 
with  a  proper  introduction,  gives  you  the  freedom  of  the 
house.  Your  host  or  hostess  tells  you,  at  once,  that  it  is 
"a  la  disposition  de  vmd." — altogether  at  your  disposal.  If 
you  are  in  the  house,  and  it  happens  to  be  mentioned,  it  is 
not  as  the  house  of  the  proprietor,  but  as  esta  su  casa — this, 
your  house.  If  you  suppose  all  this  to  be  mere  compliment, 
and  adopt  the  English  and  American  idea,  that  you  are  not 
treated  with  substantial  civility,  til]  you  are  formally  invited 
to  dinner,  you  mistake  the  people,  and  throw  away  your 
opportunities.  The  stomach  is  not  considered,  in  Spain,  as 
the  seat  of  the  social  affections.  If  you  are  recommended 
to  a  family,  the  head  of  it  calls  on  you  at  once,  without 
regard  to  formality  or  visiting  hours.  Instead  of  giving  you 
to  eat,  which,  as  you  are  traveling  on  your  own  means,  he 
naturally  supposes  you  do  not  imperatively  need,  ho  gives 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  109 

you  his  company,  and  his  personal  attention  and  guidance, 
which  he  knows  are  of  much  more  importance  to  you,  and 
which  you  can  not  buy.  He  takes  you  to  see  his  family  and 
his  friends ;  puts  you,  at  once,  on  a  footing  of  familiar  acquaint- 
ance with  them  ;  makes  you  feel  that  the  door  is  open  to  you 
whenever  you  wish  to  enter,  and  then  leaves  it  to  your  own 
discretion  to  go  and  come,  as  you  please.  Out  of  doors,  he 
is  by  your  side.  He  gives  you  the  thousand  facilities,  that 
a  stranger  can  only  thus  obtain,  and  tells  you,  in  half  a  day, 
all  that  a  guide-book  and  a  valet  de  place  could  teach  you 
in  a  month. 

I  have  often  talked  to  English  and  American  travelers, 
of  this  difference  between  the  treatment  of  strangers,  in 
Spain  and  in  our  respective  countries,  and  although  I 
have  found  few  disposed  to  deny  the  superior  good  taste 
and  civilization  of  the  Spanish  system,  it  has  not  been, 
often,  without  an  attempt  to  account  for  it  on  other  than 
national  grounds.  The  Spaniards,  they  say,  are  an  idle 
people  ;  a  stranger  is  quite  a  god-send  to  them,  and  they 
not  only  have  abundance  of  time  to  devote  to  him,  which 
an  Englishman  or  American  has  not,  but  they  find  it  a 
great  relief  to  the  tedium  and  ennui  of  their  own  customary 
life.  Some  of  this,  no  doubt,  is  true.  A  Spaniard,  generally, 
has  considerable  leisure,  for  himself  as  well  as  for  others  ; 
though  I  hardly  think  that  fact  proves  any  thing,  as  to  the 
point  in  controversy,  except  that  the  monopolizing  occupa- 
tions of  the  English  and  our  own  countrymen  interfere, 
mainly,  with  the  exercise  of  the  most  grateful  and  enlight- 
ened species  of  hospitality.  But,  so  far  as  my  opportunities 
disclosed,  it  is  all  the  same,  in  Spain,  with  men  of  business 
and  men  of  leisure.  The  former  may  not  give  you,  so  ex- 
clusively, their  personal  attention,  but  they  favor  you  with 
infinitely  more  of  it  than  you  obtain,  anywhere  else,  from 
those  to  whom  you  are  recommended.  They  act  upon  the 
principle,  that  you  need  society,  in  a  strange  place,  and  that 
"  victuals  and  drink"  do  not  extinguish  their  obligation  to 


110  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

give  it  to  you.  Man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone,  and  how 
few  travelers  are  there,  who  have  not  sighed  over  the  neglect 
of  so  venerable  a  truth,  when  they  have  found,  in  their  jour- 
neyings  to  and  fro,  that  a  letter  of  introduction  is  generally 
held  to  be  a  bill  of  exchange,  which  is  paid,  in  full,  by  a  din- 
ner !  When  our  new  acquaintance,  too  busy  to  see  us  him- 
self, has  sent  us  his  invitation,  how  often  have  we  wished,  in 
despair  at  his  sad  civility,  that  he  had  sent  us  his  servant, 
his  carriage,  even  his  horse,  in  its  stead  !  A  wise  man,  as 
well  as  witty,  was  Theodore  Hook,  when  he  told  the  alder- 
man who  had  already  surfeited  him,  and  yet  pressed  him  to 
partake  of  still  another  course — "  I  thank  you,  but,  if  it's 
the  same  to  you,  I'll  take  the  rest  in  money  !"  Many  En- 
glish travelers,  attribute  the  non-dinner-giving  habit  of  the 
Spaniards  to  their  poverty,  or  economy.  This  is  all  very 
natural,  in  that  large  class  of  John  Bull's  children,  who, 
regarding  alimentiveness  as  a  national  virtue  and  roast 
beef  as  one  of  the  bulwarks  of  the  realm,  can  see  no  excuse 
for  abstinence,  but  the  lack  of  liberality  or  funds.  It  is 
strange,  however,  that  so  enlightened  a  person  as  Mr.  Ford 
should  lean  to  that  way  of  thinking,  and  quote  Justin, 
Athenaeus,  Martial,  and  Strabo,  in  the  original,  to  show  that 
it  is  nothing  new.  Lithgow,  whose  visit  to  Spain  was  as 
far  back  as  the  reign  of  Philip  IV.,  delivers  his  sentiments 
on  the  subject  in  this  wise  :  "  The  Spaniard  is  of  a  spare 
diet  and  temperate,  if  at  his  own  cost  he  spend,  but  if  given 
gratis,  he  hath  the  longest  tusks  that  ever  played  at  table." 
My  own  experience  was  rather  the  reverse  of  this,  for,  instead 
of  rinding  any  disposition,  on  the  part  of  the  Spaniards,  to 
make  a  stranger  pay  their  score,  I  was  occasionally  al- 
most annoyed  by  their  insisting  upon  settling  mine.  I  must 
be  pardoned,  therefore,  for  thinking  that  the  class  of  travelers, 
whose  notions  on  the  subject  I  have  referred  to,  either  had 
very  bad  luck,  or  kept  bad  company.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
I  can  not  but  applaud  that  custom,  in  regard  to  the  recep- 
tion of  strangers,  which  puts  the  poor  host  and  the  rich  on 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  Ill 

a  level ;  enabling  the  one  to  do  all,  in  the  way  of  civility, 
that  can  properly  be  expected  of  the  other.  Not  the  least 
of  its  advantages,  is  the  relief  to  the  guest  himself,  who  is 
saved  the  unpleasant  reflection,  that  he  has,  perchance,  been 
a  burden  to  an  amiable  man,  who  could  ill  afford  it, .or  a 
bore  to  a  wealthy  one,  who  feasted  him  to  be  rid  of  him. 

The  indoor  manners  of  the  Malaguenos  are,  I  have  said, 
simple  and  cordial,  in  a  high  degree.  You  start,  with  your 
friend,  upon  a  round  of  visiting.  You  will  be  strangely  dis- 
appointed, if  you  imagine  that  it  is  a  matter  of  routine  and 
visiting  cards,  as  at  home.  It  is  a  thing,  on  the  contrary, 
not  to  be  lightly  disposed  of,  and  one  which,  from  the  time 
it  occupies,  would  be  quite  serious,  were  it  not  so  exceedingly 
agreeable.  You  have  threaded  a  half-score  of  crooked,  nar- 
row streets,  perhaps,  when  your  guide  rings  at  a  very  un- 
promising looking,  large  gate.  In  a  moment,  you  hear  the 
clicking  of  a  latch,  and  a  wicket  opens  before  you.  You 
enter,  and  hear  a  voice,  from  the  upper  regions,  calling  out, 
"Quien  viene?"  or,  more  shortly,  "Quien?"  (Who  comes? 
or  Who  ?)  You  are  in  the  center  of  a  court,  and  as  your 
companion  replies,  "Gente  de  paz,"  or  "  Paz"  ("  Peaceful 
people,"  or  "  Peace  !")  you  look  up,  and  see  the  servant,  in 
an.  upper  gallery,  with  the  string  in  his  hand  which  has 
raised  the  latch  for  you.  Your  friend  makes  the  proper 
inquiries,  and,  in  a  moment,  you  find  yourself  in  an  ante- 
chamber, on  the  first  or  second  floor,  from  which  you  are 
ushered  into  the  receiving-room.  In  all  probability,  you 
find  all  the  ladies  of  the  family  together,  in  plain  morning 
dress,  and  busy  at  gome  labor  of  the  needle,  from  which,  no 
matter  how  homely  and  industrious  it  be,  your  presence 
does  not  disturb  them.  The  endorsement  of  the  gentleman 
who  presents  you,  admits  you  at  once,  ad  eundem,  and  you 
are  made  welcome  and  at  ease,  accordingly.  Do  not  be 
surprised,  if  a  fair  maiden  insists  upon  bestowing  your  hat 
out  of  harm's  way,  nor  if  another,  with  her  own  delicate 
hands,  should  place  the  most  luxurious  seat  in  the  room  at 


112  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

your  disposal.  Perhaps,  in  a  large  balcony-window,  over, 
hanging  the  street,  there  sits,  like  a  sweet  saint  in  a  niche- 
a  fair  worker  in  embroidery.  It  may  be,  she  is  the  comeliest, 
and  the  light,  by  chance,  is  good  and  well-adjusted,  so  that 
you  will  find  the  vacant  chair,  by  her  side,  the  place  which 
of  all  others  is  the  most  agreeable  to  you.  What  you  may 
talk  of  concerns  no  one,  but  prejudiced  as  you  may  be,  in 
favor  of  the  sterner  elegance  of  the  pure  Castilian,  it  will  be 
strange  if  your  first  experience  does  not  reconcile  you,  straight- 
ways,  to  the  soft  murdering  of  consonants  of  which  the 
Andalusian  beauties  are  so  guilty.  When  you  rise  to  retire, 
you  will  be  astonished  that  your  morning  has  gone  ;  but  you 
have  been  made  so  perfectly  and  pleasantly  at  home,  that  you 
can  not  resist  the  warm  invitation  to  return,  and  will,  no 
doubt,  find  yourself  again  in  the  balcony,  before  the  flowers  have 
faded,  which  were  budding  when  you  first  saw  them  there. 
Marriage,  among  the  better  classes  in  Malaga,  is  a  thing,  as 
the  church  service  hath  it,  not  "enterprised  or  taken  in  hand 
unadvisedly  or  lightly."  The  laboring  people,  with  that 
provident  heed  of  the  morrow  which  seems  peculiar,  every 
where,  to  the  poor  and  the  lilies  of  the  field,  are  satisfied 
with  such  happiness  as  eight  or  ten  reals  a  day  can  procure, 
for  a  man  with  a  wife  and  family.  They  marry  when  it 
suits  them  ;  live  as  well  as  they  can,  on  wine  and  oil,  grapes, 
bread,  garbanzos,  and  garlic,  and  are  as  cheerful  and  merry 
over  an  old  guitar,  as  if  its  music  contained  the  quintessence 
of  as  many  good  things,  as  were  in  my  Lord  Peter's  brown 
loaf,  or  his  alderman's  sirloin.  Heaven  always  blesses  a  con- 
tented spirit,  and  there  are  few  of  them  who  do  not  see, 

"  Around  them  grow  their  sons  and  daughters, 
Like  wild  grapes  on  the  vine." 

Quite  as  willingly,  no  doubt,  would  the  young  folks  of  the 
higher  ranks  assume  the  yoke  and  trust  to  Providence ;  but 
the  usages  of  society  compel  the  observance  of  a  somewhat 
sterner  prudence.  Cupid's  drafts,  with  them,  are  generally 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPATN.  113 

on  time  and  at  long  dates.  For  many  years — often  from 
early  youth  to  manhood  well  matured — it  is  customary  for 
them,  estar  en  relaciones  (to  be  upon  relations)  with  each 
other,  until  the  happy  or  unhappy  young  man  (as  the  case 
may  be)  can  persuade  the  fair  one,  or  her  less  persuadable 
relatives,  that  he  is  able,  con  decoro,  to  keep  house  and  fam- 
ily. Run-away  matches  not  being  tolerated,  by  church, 
state,  or  fashion,  matrimony  would  thus  become  too  often  a 
sad,  systematic  business,  were  it  not  that,  in  Andalusia,  the 
light  of  love's  young  dream  is  no  "  brief  candle,"  but  burns 
long  and  bright,  as  well  as  warm.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
patient  swain  has  the  freedom  of  the  father's  house  and  the 
lady's  conversation,  and  on  pleasant  nights,  when  the  moon, 
or  stars,  or  his  young  Juliet's  eyes  invite  him,  he  can  say 
sweet  things  to  her,  till  morning  comes,  through  the  rejas 
(the  iron  gratings)  of  her  window.  This  relic  of  the  olden 
times,  when  sleepless  maidens  welcomed  their  roving  lovers 
from  midnight  lattices,  now  goes  by  at  least  two  most  un- 
romantic  names.  Some  call  it  comer  hierro  (to  eat  iron)  a 
phrase,  the  foundation  or  derivation  of  which  may  very 
reasonably  be  traced  to  some  supposed  approximation  of  the 
lover's  lips  to  the  window-bars.  The  other  name,  however, 
pelar  la  pava  (to  pluck  the  hen-turkey,  as  the  Hand-book 
translates  it),  seems  of  much  less  philosophical  etymology,  for 
surely,  if  so  gallant  a  performance  smacks  at  all  of  the  poul- 
try-yard, another  bird,  of  Capitoline  memory  would  seem  to 
be  entitled  to  its  honors.  Mr.  Ford  is  mistaken,  as  I  had 
reason  to  know,  in  supposing  that  the  custom  has  been  aban- 
doned by  the  higher  classes,  and  it  is  no  unusual  thing,  if  by 
chance  you  walk  late,  to  see  well  cloaked  squires,  of  the  very 
proudest,,  keeping  watch  arid  ward,  in  the  small  hours,  by  a 
lone  balcony. 

The  admirable  description  which  the  Hand-book  gives  of 
medical  men  in  Spain,  applies  especially  to  Malaga,  where 
things  are  still  done  as  in  the  days  of  Gil  Bias,  or  at  least 
as  when  Moliere's  heroes  flourished  their  gold-headed  canes. 


114  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

Not  but  that  there  are,  among  the  physicians,  well  educated 
men,  from  the  best  schools,  but  the  absurd  old  fashion  of 
taking  no  decisive  step,  without  a  junta  of  doctors,  not  only 
destroys  all  sense  of  responsibility  and  all  proper  self-reliance 
on  the  part  of  the  practitioner,  but  too  frequently  allows  the 
disease  to  walk  off  with  the  patient,  in  the  interim.  It  must 
be  a  sad  business,  for  both  the  feelings  and  the  temper — 
when  a  friend  or  relative  is  in  peril,  from  which  the  timely 
action  of  a  scientific  attendant  might  speedily  relieve  him — 
to  be  compelled  to  drum  up  the  faculty,  for  a  consulta,  and 
then  wait  until  the  family-physician  has  told  the  story  of  the 
case,  with  a  slight  biographical  sketch  of  the  patient,  in 
order  that  each  of  the  counselors,  in  his  turn,  may  smoke  a 
cigar  over  it,  and  deliver  the  same  disquisition,  backward,  or 
otherwise  importantly  varied,  as  he  may  prefer.  "  Les  gens 
de  la  maison"  says  M.  Tomes  in  L'  Amour  Medecin, 
"faisoient  ce  qu'ils  pouvoient,  et  la  maladie  pressoit :  mais 
je  n'en  voulus  point  demordre,  et  la  malade  mourut  brave- 
ment  pendant  cette  contestation."  Happily,  delays  may 
save,  now  and  then,  as  well  as  kill.  As  a  matter  of  justice, 
however,  to  the  faculty  of  Malaga  (though  perhaps  they 
have  nothing  to  do  with  it)  I  ought  to  mention,  that  in 
looking  over  the  daily  bills  of  mortality,  as  published  in  the 
newspapers,  I  was  constantly  struck  with  the  frequent 
instances  of  longevity.  Deaths  of  persons,  over  ninety  years 
of  age,  occurred  very  often  during  my  first  visit.  I  remem- 
ber that  of  one,  who  had  gone  considerably  over  an  hundred, 
and  the  proportion  of  those  who  died  at  sixty,  seventy,  and 
eighty,  was  quite  large.  Captain  Widdrington  notices  this 
fact  in  his  Sketches,  and  it  is  entitled  to  some  consideration, 
on  account  of  the  particularity  with  which  the  parish-records 
are  kept,  and  the  consequent  improbability  of  mistake.  I 
can  not  account  for  the  anomaly,  in  view  of  the  medical 
habits  alluded  to,  unless  it  be,  that  the  parties  who  had 
lived  so  long  had  been  too  poor  to  employ  physicians,  or  that 
constitutions,  which  could  survive  the  consultas  of  twenty 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  115 

years,  were  good  for  a  century,  at  least,  in  the  absence  of 
earthquakes  and  pronunciamientos. 

Whether  the  Spanish  physicians  are  responsible  for  some 
very  droll  notions,  upon  medical  subjects,  which  prevail 
among  the  people,  I  am  not  prepared  to  say  ;  but,  if  they 
be,  it  is  clear  that  their  art  needs  mending.  Pulmonary 
consumption,  for  example,  is  popularly  deemed  contagious, 
arid  patients,  suffering  from  it,  are  treated  and  shunned 
accordingly.  When  death  ensues,  the  sick-chamber  goes 
through  a  perfect  quarantine  of  disinfection ;  and  beds, 
clothing,  and  furniture  are  remorselessly  given  to  the  flames. 
In  Cadiz,  it  occurred  to  me,  to  exchange  my  traveling-bag 
for  one  of  a  more  convenient  size.  The  tradesman  expressed 
his  regret  that  he  could  not  find  any  use  for  mine.  "It  is 
an  excellent  one,"  he  said,  "  but  it  has  been  slightly  used, 
and  no  one  will  buy  it.  My  customers  will  think  it  has 
belonged  to  some  consumptive  person  (algun  etico),  and 
although  your  worship  does  not  look  like  one,  it  will  be  of 
no  avail  for  me  to  say  so." 

In  the  use  of  leeches,  to  reduce  inflammation  of  the  brain, 
it  is  customary  to  apply  them — at  the  lower  extremity  of 
the  spine  ;  the  theory  being,  that  the  farther  you  draw  the 
blood  from  the  diseased  part  the  better  !  Why,  upon  that 
principle,  they  stop  short  of  the  soles  of  the  feet,  or  do  not 
send  the  blood  a  league  into  the  country,  afterward,  seems 
rather  difficult  to  understand. 

An  English  gentleman  told  me,  that,  in  conversation  with 
one  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  faculty  in  Granada,  he  al- 
luded to  the  recent  discoveries  in  regard  to  sulphuric  ether. 
"  You  mistake,"  said  Esculapius.  "It  is  not  ether ;  it  is 
carbonic  acid  gas,  and  I  tell  you  it  is  very  dangerous.  It 
asphyxiates  the  patient,  immediately  !" 

From  physicians,  to  funerals,  the  transition  is  a  natural 
one,  by  association  of  ideas,  at  all  events,  if  not  in  the  due 
sequence  of  cause  and  effect.  The  Spanish  medicos,  at 
least,  seem  to  think  so,  and  they  are  careful  not  to  encourage 


116  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

the  connection,  by  attending  the  burial  of  their  patients. 
The  domestic  manners  of  the  Malaguenos  are  well  illus- 
trated, by  their  customs  in  regard  to  sickness  and  death. 
When  a  case  is  pronounced  de  cuidado  (of  seriousness)  the 
usual  visitors  of  the  house  are  expected  to  call,  regularly, 
in  person.  To  avoid  the  inconvenience  which  might  be 
caused  by  this,  to  the  family,  the  door  of  the  front  court  is 
left  open,  and  upon  a  table  within,  there  is  placed  a  bulletin 
of  the  patient's  condition,  with  information  as  to  whether  the 
family  are  willing  or  not  to  see  company.  There  are  writing 
materials  at  hand,  and  each  visitor  leaves  his  name,  depart- 
ing, as  he  entered,  without  the  use  of  bell  or  knocker.  The 
near  relatives  and  close  friends  go  up  even  to  the  sick-room  ; 
a  custom  which,  however  affectionate,  must  be,  I  should 
think,  both  inconvenient  to  the  household  and  perilous  to  the 
patient.  If  the  physicians  think  that  the  case  is  critical,  the 
sacrament  of  extreme  unction  is,  of  course,  administered,  as 
speedily  as  may  be.  An  hour  is  appointed  for  the  purpose, 
and  the  friends  and  acquaintances  are  notified  that  the  pro- 
cession will  start  from  the  church  at  which  the  penitent 
worships.  It  is  a  matter  of  gratification  to  the  family,  that 
the  attendance  upon  this  sad  solemnity  should  be  as  numer- 
ous and  respectable  as  possible,  and  nothing,  therefore,  but 
some  very  pressing  necessity,  is  allowed  by  the  friends  to  in- 
terfere with  their  performance  of  the  duty.  You  will,  now 
and  then  as  you  are  walking,  hear  the  tinkling  of  a  little 
bell,  which  announces  to  you  the  approach  of  the  Host,  upon 
such  an  errand.  If  the  sick  person  be  of  humble  station,  a 
few  men,  bearing  the  lanterns  belonging  to  the  church,  will 
probably  form  the  only  accompaniment  of  the  ceremonial, 
except  that,  occasionally,  the  passers-by  will  join  it,  for  a  few 
moments,  walking  in  the  rear  of  the  officiating  priest.  If, 
however,  the  party  is  of  higher  rank  or  has  a  larger  circle 
of  acquaintance,  the  procession  is  quite  imposing.  Behind 
the  accolyte  who  bears  the  bell,  you  will  see  servants  carry- 
ing baskets  of  wax  candles,  from  which  every  person,  who 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  117 

joins  the  ranks,  will  take  one,  to  be  lighted  and  carried  in 
his  hand.  The  male  friends  of  the  family,  in  full  dress, 
follow,  in  long  lines,  with  lighted  torches,  those  farthest  in 
the  rear  carrying  the  lanterns  which  the  church  sends  to 
high  and  low.  At  the  close  of  the  procession,  the  ecclesias- 
tic who  bears  the  sacrament,  comes,  clad  in  his  appropriate 
vestments,  and  generally  with  two  supporters.  The  crowd 
take  off  their  hats  and  kneel,  as  the  train  goes  by,  and  some 
of  them,  on  rising,  follow  it  reverently.  When  it  reaches 
the  sick  man's  dwelling,  the  priests,  of  course,  pass  to  his 
chamber,  and  the  administration  of  the  sacrament  is  witnessed 
by  as  many  of  the  friends  as  circumstances  will  allow.  After 
a  little  while,  you  hear  again  the  tinkling  of  the  bell,  as  the 
procession,  returning  to  the  church,  tells  you  that  the  solemn 
act  is  over.  To  travelers  from  Protestant  countries,  so  public 
a  ceremonial,  on  such  an  occasion,  seems  strange  enough,  of 
course ;  but  a  man  must  be  both  a  bigot  and  a  fool,  to  deride, 
as  empty  pageant  or  mere  "mummery,"  what,  among  people 
of  a  different  faith  and  education,  bears  hope  and  consolation 
to  the  dying  bed,  and  comfort  to  those  who  are  sorrowing 
around  it. 

When  there  is  a  death  in  a  family,  the  body  is  deposited 
in  a  private  chamber,  which  is  not  profaned  by  the  visits  or 
the  curiosity  of  indifferent  acquaintances.  The  most  intimate 
friends  and  relatives  alone  have  access  to  it.  Upon  your 
arrival,  at  the  hour  appointed  for  the  funeral,  you  are  ushered 
into  an  apartment,  at  the  head  of  which  the  nearest  rela- 
tives, not  of  the  immediate  family,  are  assembled  to  receive 
you.  They  rise  as  you  enter  :  you  salute  them  in  silence, 
and  then  retire,  to  make  way  for  others,  and  to  lounge  about 
the  halls,  the  patio,  or  the  street  before  the  door,  until  the 
procession  is  to  be  arranged.  You  are,  of  course,  expected 
to  be  in  mourning,  and  in  full  dress.  The  coffin  now  appears, 
borne  upon  a  sort  of  bier,  and  on  men's  shoulders.  It  is 
generally  open,  with  the  face  of  the  deceased  exposed.  If 
the  funeral  is  of  a  young  unmarried  woman,  there  is  a  .gar- 


118  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

land  of  white  flowers  upon  the  breast,  and  the  grave-clothes 
are  of  white,  with  a  blue  tunic  or  scarf — the  colors  of  the 
Immaculate  Conception,  which  Murillo  has  wedded  to  so 
much  loveliness  and  divinity.  Attached  to  each  corner  of 
the  coffin,  in  that  case,  is  a  long,  white  ribbon,  which  is 
held  by  one  of  the  pall-bearers,  who  are  four  unmarried  men. 
Tomar  una  cinta  (to  take  a  ribbon)  is  the  phrase  which 
indicates  their  office.  Among  the  wealthy,  the  funeral  is 
usually  accompanied  by  a  long  train  of  paupers,  who  always 
receive  some  present — often  the  suit  of  mourning  in  which 
they  appear  upon  the  occasion.  There  is,  too,  generally,  a 
detachment  of  boys  from  some  religious  or  charitable  institu- 
tion, which,  of  course,  has  its  share  of  the  alms  that  are  dis- 
tributed. The  procession  passes,  on  foot,  to  the  church,  the 
priests  and  attendants  bearing  lighted  torches,  and  solemnly 
chanting  on  their  way.  The  coaches  follow  in  the  rear,  if 
the  streets  permit,  and  if  not,  they  proceed  to  the  ceme- 
tery, where  they  await  the  return  of  the  company.  Arrived 
at  the  church,  the  body  is  carried  to  the  catafalco,  in  front 
of  the  altar,  accompanied  only  by  the  clerical  attendants  and 
the  pall-bearers.  The  rest  of  the  company  remain  in  wait- 
ing, on  the  outside,  until  the  entrance  of  the  relatives,  These 
are  not,  as  I  have  said,  of  the  immediate  family,  but  especial 
deference  is  paid  them.  They  pass  in,  between  the  uncovered 
ranks  of  their  friends,  and  in  the  church  they  occupy  the 
first  places.  When  the  services  are  over,  they  proceed,  in 
advance,  to  the  church  door,  where  they  receive  the  parting 
salutations  of  those  who  choose  to  retire  at  that  stage  of  the 
ceremony.  They  then  follow,  as  before,  in  the  rear  of  the 
procession,  which  goes  on  slowly,  with  music  and  ehant,  to 
the  sepulcher. 

The  campo  santo  of  Malaga  is  a  large  inclosure,  at  some 
distance  from  the  city,  built  up  with  niches  for  the  dead,  on 
the  inner  sides  of  the  walls.  It  has  but  little  of  ornament 
or  taste,  and  the  church  in  its  center,  though  of  recent 
erection,  seems  already  tottering.  I  do  not  know,  however, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  119 

whether  I  should  have  thought  much  better  of  it,  as  a  rest- 
ing-place for  ihe  departed,  had  it  been  as  rich  in  art  as  the 
holy  ground  of  Pisa.  It  is  a  strange  and  repulsive  custom, 
it  seems  to  me,  where  there  is  waste  soil  in  abundance,  to 
crowd  the  dead  into  these  narrow  and  unnatural  depositories. 
A  man  has  a  fair  claim  to  lay  his  bones  on  the  earth's 
bosom,  when  he  leaves  verge  and  room  enough,  for  the 
living.  At  the  time  I  saw  the  campo  santo  of  Malaga, 
the  fields  around  it  were  bright  and  fragrant  with  innumer- 
able flowers,  and  I  could  not  help  feeling  a  sense  of  inap- 
propriateness,  not  far  removed  from  pain,  when  turning 
from  the  beauties  of  the  resting-place  which  nature  tendered, 
to  the  coldness  and  desolation  of  the  moldering  walls,  into 
whose  crevices  the  lizards  and  scorpions  and  fouler  reptiles 
ran,  frightened,  as  we  passed. 

In  front  of  the  open  niche,  which  is  to  receive  the  coffin, 
the  attendants  lay  it  down,  and  a  relative  cuts  ofF  some  locks 
of  hair,  which  are  carried  home  with  the  flowers  that  may 
have  lain  upon  the  breast.  Each  of  the  pall-bearers  then 
takes,  as  a  memorial,  the  cinta  he  has  borne,  and  the  coffin 
is  locked,  and  committed  to  the  narrow  house.  The  com- 
pany, or  such  of  them  as  will,  then  return  to  the  dwelling, 
where  the  male  members  of  the  family  are  waiting  to  receive 
them.  A  melancholy  shaking  of  hands,  a  dead  effort  at  con- 
versation, and  a  good-by!  both  willing  and  welcome,  put  a 
speedy  end  to  the  unhappy  formality.  For  the  two  or  three 
days  next  ensuing,  it  is  generally  expected  that  the  family 
will  be  at  home  to  those  of  their  friends  who  call,  para 
hacerles  compania — to  give  them  company.  Some  have  the 
good  sense  and  good  taste  to  break  through  this  observance, 
in  which  case,  a  paper  upon  the  table  in  the  patio,  informs 
the  visitors  that  the  family  can  not  be  seen.  Their  names, 
which  they  leave,  answer  all  the  purposes  of  compliment, 
and  save  a  great  deal  of  unpleasantness. 

Custom,  of  course,  reconciles  us  to  all  things,  but  there 
is  an  opening  of  the  home-sanctuary  in  these  usages,  to 


120         -  GLIMPSESOFSPAIN. 

which  only  custom  could  reconcile.  The  Spaniards,  how- 
ever, are  so  close  and  intimate,  in  their  relations  of  family 
or  friendship,  and  see,  constantly,  so  much  of  each  other  and 
each  other's  inner-life,  that  what,  to  us,  may  seem  a  painful 
violation  of  the  privacy  of  grief,  may  be,  to  them,  but  a  nat- 
ural concession  to  the  claims  of  social  fellowship  and  sym- 
pathy. In  this  point  of  view,  I  have  deemed  the  details  I 
have  given,  sufficiently  illustrative  of  national  character,  to 
deserve  the  space  they  occupy. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Departure  for  Cadiz — A  Summer  Sea — Rock  and  Straits  of  Gibraltar 
by  Moonlight — Cadiz — The  Casino — English  Papers  and  the  Mex- 
ican War — Women — Public  Walks — Buildings — Flower-market — 
Fondness  for  Flowers — Spanish  rural  Tastes — Fortifications — 
Ocean-view  and  Sunset. 

IT  had  been  my  intention,  on  arriving  at  Malaga,  to 
shape  my  course,  next,  to  Granada.  The  season,  however, 
was  tardy,  and  leaves  and  flowers  are  so  essential  to  a  fair 
appreciation  of  the  City  of  the  Moor,  that  I  was  advised,  on 
all  hands,  to  change  my  plan,  and  leave  the  Alhambra  un- 
seen, till  the  very  close  of  spring.  My  American  fellow- 
travelers,  who  had  gone  up,  a  few  days  after  our  arrival,  and 
had «« done"  Zegri,  Abencerrage,  and  Christian,  in  one  morning, 
were  not  particularly  enthusiastic  in  their  accounts  of  the 
climate  among  the  mountains  ;  so  that  I  readily  agreed  to 
linger,  a  little  longer,  in  the  cities  on  the  plains.  The  great 
Andalusian  horse-fair  of  Ronda  commences,  every  year,  upon 
the  twentieth  of  May,  and  I  was  soon  convinced  that  it  was 
possible  for  me,  in  the  mean  time,  to  see  Cadiz  and  Seville, 
and,  returning  to  Malaga  once  more,  by  the  Ronda  Mount- 
ains, be  in  time  to  catch  the  first  breath  of  summer  on  the 
gardens  of  the  Generalife. 

On  the  evening  of  April  27th,  I  was  accordingly  ship- 
ped for  Cadiz,  on  board  the  splendid  steamer,  the  Manuel 
Agustin  Heredia.  The  vessel  had  just  been  purchased  in 
England,  and  was  about  to  make  her  first  trip  to  Havre,  as 
one  of  a  line  but  recently  established.  There  were  crowds 
upon  the  quays  and  mole,  to  see  her  start,  and  she  was 
thronged  with  visitors,  until  her  anchor  rose.  Such  kissings1 

F 


122  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

and  partings  there  were — such  waving  of  handkerchiefs  and 
drying  of  tears — such  good  wishes  given  and  received,  in 
accents  so  soft  and  lisping  !  It  was  hard  for  a  man  to 
be  a  disinterested  spectator  of  such  things,  when  the  bright- 
ness of  the  eyes  and  the  freshness  of  the  lips  concerned 
in  them,  gave  such  enlarged  and  delightful  ideas  of  the 
philosophy  of  adaptation.  But,  alas  !  a  traveler,  who  is  but 
a  rolling  stone,  can  expect  to  gather  no  such  moss  !  The 
day  was  fine,  and  a  crowd  of  pleasure  boats  flitted  about  the 
harbor,  in  honor  of  the  occasion,  but  the  breeze  was  light, 
and  they  were  soon  far  behind  us,  and  then  the  towers  and 
battlements  of  the  pleasant  city  were  gradually  lost,  among 
the  brown  reaches  of  the  hills.  The  sun  went  down,  while 
we  were  passing  the  Castle  of  Fuengirola,  with  its  white 
village  skirting  the  sea — the  fortress  itself  crowning  a  green 
eminence,  over  which,  farther  back,  towered  the  rough 
Sierra  de  Mijas.  Far  before  us  were  the  high  lands  about 
Marbella,  and  farther  still,  the  bold  coast  of  Africa  loomed 
against  the  cloudless  sky.  The  Rock  of  Gibraltar,  was,  of 
course,  up  and  doing  also,  and  the  Sierra  Nevada  could  still 
be  seen,  frowning  over  the  shores  we  were  leaving.  Fleets 
of  vessels  were  all  around  us.  There  were  Mediterranean 
cruisers,  with  their  strange,  beautiful  piles  of  canvas ;  square- 
rigged  craft,  bound  on  long  voyages,  and,  for  many  days, 
looking  in  vain  for  favorable  breezes  ;  fishing  smacks  droop- 
ing in  to  shore,  like  tired  birds,  on  lazy  wing,  at  twilight. 
Some  of  the  heavier  vessels  had  their  boats  out,  and  were 
going  through  the  form  of  being  towed ;  others  were  anchored 
near  shore,  in  utter  despair  of  wind,  and  we  could  readily 
imagine  how  they  envied  us,  as  we  ploughed  on,  beneath 
the  moon,  our  ten  glad  miles  the  hour.  Steamers  are  no 
picturesque  tourists,  and  so  we  staid  not  a  moment  to  ad- 
mire or  console  such  lagging  company ;  but — leaving  them 
to  study,  at  their  leisure,  the  antiquity  of  the  old  watch- 
towers  on  the  hills  above  them,  or  to  make  what  pleasant 
topographical  reflections  they  preferred,  upon  the  contrast 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  123 

between  the  soft,  rolling  country  near  the  shore,  and  the 
bleak  ranges  further  in  ;  or,  if  they  chose,  to  wonder  whether 
the  lights  which  peeped  out,  now  and  then,  in  odd  places, 
were  smugglers'  signals  (as  the  mate  told  me)  or  the  honest 
candles  of  supper-eating  husbandmen — leaving  them,  I  say, 
to  all  these  things,  and  more,  we  paddled  on,  as  quietly  as 
the  "  painted  ship"  could,  for  her  life,  have  steamed  it  over 
the  "  painted  ocean."  I  did  not  retire  until  we  had  been 
for  some  time  abreast  of  Gibraltar,  which  made  my  watch 
rather  a  late  one  ;  the  winds  which  had  for  some  time  before 
prevailed,  having  given  unusual  strength  to  the  current 
against  which  we  were  struggling.  A  grand  and  giant 
spectacle  was  that  same  Pillar  of  Hercules,  in  the  moonlight, 
all  of  whose  softening  silver  fell,  in  vain,  upon  its  rugged, 
awful  form  !  Some  British  travelers  (and  I  think  Ford 
among  them) — not  content  with  having  a  "British  lion" 
upon  every  monument  in  St.  Paul's,  nor  with  otherwise 
despitefully  using  the  unhappy  animal,  after  a  fashion  which 
is  faithfully  followed,  by  Congressional  and  other  orators,  in 
regard  to  that  much  persecuted  bird,  the  "  American  Eagle" 
— will  have  it  that  the  Rock  of  Gibraltar,  thus  approached, 
has  a  marvelous  resemblance  to  the  king  of  beasts  couchant. 
I  endeavored,  with  the  best  intentions,  to  realize  the  likeness, 
but  I  confess  I  should  have  seen  quite  as  much  of  it  in  Snug 
the  Joiner.  It  may  be  that  there  was  something  in  the 
association  of  moonshine. 

A  noisy  troop  of  children  woke  me,  next  morning,  when 
we  were  within  an  hour's  run  of  Cadiz.  Remembering 
Naples  or  even  Genoa,  it  is  hard  to  say,  absolutely,  that 
Cadiz  is  the  most  beautiful  city  in  the  world  to  approach  by 
sea,  arid  yet  an  enthusiastic  man,  at  a  distance  from  both  of 
the  others,  is  sorely  tempted  to  put  them  in  the  back-ground. 
There  are,  to  be  sure,  no  classic  mountains  or  storied  islands 
embalmed  in  violet  haze,  nor  any  hill-sides,  proud  with 
marble  palaces  ;  but  the  bay  has  curves,  so  many  and  so 
graceful,  with  fair  towns  lying  beautifully  down  among 


124  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

them  ;  and  then,  the  tall  buildings  of  the  city  rise  so  white 
and  glittering,  above  the  majestic  sea-wall,  and  the  charming 
Alameda  breaks,  so  pleasantly,  the  contrast  between  the 
snowy  tint  above  it  and  the  blue  billows  just  below,  that 
you  are  quite  satisfied,  for  the  moment,  to  be  where  you  are, 
let  other  regions  be  as  fairy  as  they  may. 

It  was  about  half-past  eight  when  we  reached  our  anchor- 
age, and  were  allowed  to  land,  with  unusual  dispatch.  The 
boat  we  took  was  quite  a  grand  affair,  with  broad  high  sails, 
and  colors  flying ;  but  the  boatmen  amused  themselves  by  a 
quarrel  on  the  route,  which  was  decided  by  a  fight,  on 
reaching  shore,  and  resulted  in  a  monopoly  of  the  passen- 
gers and  their  movables,  by  the  oldest  and  toughest  rascal. 
It  was  a  pleasant  illustration  of  what  the  free-trade  econo- 
mists would  call  "  unrestricted  competition."  By  bad  ad- 
vice, though  well  intended,  I  went  to  the  Hotel  de  1'Europe, 
a  French  establishment,  fronting  on  the  Calle  de  la  Carne 
(literally  "  the  Street  of  the  Flesh,"  but  more  properly  "  Meat- 
street"),  the  ill  name  of  which  is  counterbalanced  by  its 
looking  out,  on  the  other  side,  upon  a  street  dedicated  to 
both  San  Augustin  and  San  Antonio.  The  hotel,  I  may 
as  well  say,  for  the  benefit  of  future  travelers,  has  marble 
floors,  which  are  washed  occasionally,  and  it  ought  to  be 
free  forever  from  nocturnal  persecutors,  if  there  be  such  a 
thing  as  destroying  the  race.  At  least  so  the  walls  of  my 
chamber  seemed  to  suggest,  and  it  was  the  best  in  the 
establishment.  As  to  the  table,  I  know  nothing  better  to 
say,  than  what  a  FrencV  bon-vivant  gave  me,  as  his  idea  of 
Marseilles — "  Id,  on  mange — on  ne  dine  pas." 

Ford  says,  that  "  Cadiz  may  be  seen  in  a  day."  He  is 
not  far  wrong,  if  you  do  nothing  but  see.  Having  letters, 
however,  from  friends  to  their  friends,  I  determined  to  be  in 
no  great  hurry,  and  accordingly  soon  found  myself  politely 
taken  into  very  good  hands.  Though  the  weather  was  very 
warm,  and  Cadiz,  at  mid-day,  is  not  Spitzbergen,  we  strolled 
a  good  deal  through  the  streets,  and  even  looked  at  the 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  125 

flowers  in  the  Alameda,  before  dinner-time.  The  appear- 
ance of  the  city  is  altogether  delightful.  The  streets  are 
smoothly  and  finely  paved,  and  are  kept  scrupulously  clean. 
They  are  so  narrow,  however,  that  one,  of  a  width  which 
would  be  barely  respectable  among  us,  is  called  Co.lle  ancha 
(Broad-street)  by  way  of  pre-eminence.  The  Plazas  are 
sufficiently  commodious,  and  comibrtably  enough  shaded  for 
even  a  noon-day  lounge.  The  houses  are,  as  they  appear 
from  the  sea,  white  universally,  very  tall,  nearly  all  of  them 
surmounted  by  graceful  torres,  and  ornamented  by  light  bal- 
conies, which  overhang  the  streets  and  are  mostly  painted 
a  soft  green,  that  forms  a  very  agreeable  relief  to  the  eye. 

I  was  introduced,  on  the  day  of  my  arrival,  at  the  Ca- 
sino, or  club,  a  very  elegant  and  luxurious  establishment. 
It  has  fine  billiard,  card,  and  refreshment  rooms,  and  an 
excellent  and  large  supply  of  home  and  foreign  papers  and 
periodicals.  It  was  there  that  I  first  saw  the  news  by  the 
steamer  of  April  ]  st,  giving  something  like  a  correct  account 
of  the  battle  of  Buena  Vista.  The  previous  rumors  had 
been  undecided,  unsatisfactory,  and  some  of  them  unfavora- 
ble, and  I  had  been  very  uneasy  as  to  the  probable  fate  of 
the  gallant  army,  stripped  of  its  regulars  in  an  enemy's 
country,  and  left  to  struggle  for  existence,  with  no  resources 
in  front  and  no  sufficient  support  in  the  rear.  It  would  be 
almost  childish  to  say  how  my  heart  leapt  up  within  me, 
when  I  read  even  these  first  imperfect  details.  It  was  not 
until  nearly  two  months  afterward,  that  I  saw,  in  Gibraltar, 
the  official  accounts,  and  I  could  then  read,  with  proper 
appreciation,  the  commentaries  of  the  British  press,  one  of 
whose  most  influential  dailies  was  so  generous  as  to  say,  of  a 
battle — which,  considering  the  circumstances  and  the  numbers 
involved,  has  never  been  surpassed  for  bravery  or  conduct — 
that  "  it  was  but  the  successful  maintenance  of  an  impregna- 
ble position  !"  When  I  looked  at  the  ramparts  and  re- 
membered the  glories  of  Gibraltar,  I  could  not  help  thinking 
that  England,  at  least,  might  have  afforded  to  be  just. 


126  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

On  the  afternoon  of  my  arrival,  I  walked  to  the  Alameda, 
and  thence,  around  the  shore,  to  the  fortress  of  Santa  Cata- 
lina  and  the  back  of  the  city.  Formidable  defenses  these  cer- 
tainly have  been,  and  might  still  be ;  what  they  are,  in  their 
present  dismantled  condition,  it  is  very  easy  to  see.  Toward 
evening,  I  returned  to  the  Alameda,  where  I  met  some  ac- 
quaintances, and  remained  until  after  eight.  The  walk  was 
full  of  people — some  sitting  on  the  stone  benches,  wrapt  in 
meditation  and  cigar  smoke — others,  strolling  on  the  borders 
of  the  sea,  whose  waves  broke  just  below  the  gardens.  The 
principal  portion  of  the  fair  sex  were  promenading,  up  and 
down,  between  the  gardens  of  the  central  walk,  and  I  am 
sure  I  saw  more  really  beautiful  women  there,  in  that  one 
afternoon,  than  I  had  seen  during  the  time  I  had  been  in 
Europe — Malaga  (I  am  forced  to  say)  included.  Not  that 
there  was  any  remarkable  variety  of  style,  carriage,  feature 
or  complexion  ;  on  the  contrary,  there  was  perhaps  too  much 
of  the  "  sameness  of  splendor,"  in  which  "  Love  falls  asleep," 
(pleasant  dreams  to  him  !)  as  Lallah  Rookh  tells  us.  Some 
sorts  of  monotony,  however,  are  quite  endurable.  There  were 
but  few  bonnets  on  the  Alameda,  to  mar  the  rich  array  of 
graceful  mantillas  and  shining  hair — and  even  if  tfyere  had 
been  more,  the  "  many  twinkling  feet"  would  have  been 
quite  a  compensation.  It  is  hard  for  a  foreigner  to  compre- 
hend, until  he  visits  Andalusia,  that  there  is  nothing  exag- 
gerated in  the  usual  salutation  to  a  lady — "  A  los  pies  de 
vmd.  Senorita" — (At  your  feet,  lady  !)  At  the  first  view 
of  the  article,  he  becomes  perfectly  reconciled  to  the  good 
taste  of  what  seems,  at  first,  a  humiliation.  It  is  well,  too, 
that  the  graceful  proportions  of  the  fair  ones  will  bear  criti- 
cism, for  they  have  to  endure  it.  Few  men  walk  with  them 
on  the  paseo,  for  such  an  attention  is  considered  quite  serious. 
Their  promenade  therefore  is  a  continual  passing  in  review 
before  the  marriageable  youth,  who  have  nothing  to  do,  but 
to  sit  or  walk  together  and  use  their  eyes. 

The  public  buildings  of  Cadiz  are  of  no  great  merit.      I 


GLIMPSES   OF    SPAIN.  127 

dispatched  the  two  Cathedrals  before  breakfast,  the  morning 
after  my  arrival,  and  I  think  I  did  them  full  justice.  The 
old  one  is  a  poor,  low  building,  with  a  few  bad  pictures,  and 
a  great  deal  of  whitewash.  The  new  one  is  of  fine,  dark 
stone,  and  would  be  really  worthy  of  much  note,  were  it -not 
overloaded  with  ornament,  in  very  bad  taste.  It  is  chiefly 
remarkable,  as  having  been  finished,  within  the  last  ten 
years,  and  at  great  cost,  by  the  present  Bishop,  who  devoted 
his  own  income  to  the  work.  Pity  it  is,  that  the  skill  of  the 
architect  did  not  equal  the  piety  of  the  venerable  prelate,  for 
the  dimensions  are  colossal,  the  ground  plan  is  excellent,  the 
marbles  are  very  beautiful,  and  the  whole  might,  at  the  same 
cost,  have  been  made  a  monument  of  architecture.  A  mar- 
ble slab  within,  announces  that  it  contains  relics  of  many 
saints  and  martyrs,  and  the  author  of  the  "  Paseo  par  Cadiz" 
mentions  among  its  treasures,  a  large  salver,  of  silver-gilt,  ex- 
quisitely wrought  and  richly  studded  with  agates,  which  is 
supposed  to  be  the  same  on  which  the  Moorish  governor  pre- 
sented the  keys  of  the  city  to  the  victorious  Don  Alonzo.  I 
did  not  ask  to  see  either  the  relics  or  the  sacred  vessels,  and 
although  a  subsequent  visit  introduced  me  to  two  or  three 
statues  of  very  considerable  merit,  I  can  not  say  that,  on  the 
whole,  I  brought  away  a  much  more  exalted  idea  of  the 
adornments  of  the  church,  than  I  had  previously  formed  of 
its  architecture. 

On  my  way  home  that  morning,  my  attention  was  attracted 
by  the  crying  of  a  noisy  fellow,  who  was  advertising  fine 
artichokes,  "a  cuatro  cuartos por  seis  f  a  cuatro  cuartos /" 
(at  four  cuartos,  or  two  cents  and  a  half,  the  half  dozen.) 
I  turned  up  the  narrow  street,  at  a  corner  of  which  he  was 
standing,  and  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  a  little  market- 
place, where  the  good  people  were  supplying  themselves  with 
fine  vegetables,  at  prices  proportional  to  those  at  which  rny 
friend  was  giving  away  his  alcachqfas.  Trusting  to  the 
Hotel  de  1'Europe  to  do  my  marketing,  I  contented  myself 
with  purchasing  some  of  the  finest  varieties  of  carnations  I 


128  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

had  ever  seen.  There  were,  indeed,  almost  as  many  flowers 
as  vegetables  for  sale,  and  very  few  went  away  without  a 
nosegay.  I  mention  the  fact,  though  it  seems  a  very  trivial 
one,  because  some  travelers,  very  strangely,  as  I  deem  it, 
have  called  the  Spaniards  a  flower-neglecting  people,  besides 
charging  them  with  a  general  insensibility  to  the  beauties  of 
nature.  After  describing  the  luxuriant  and  exquisite  Flora 
of  Andalusia,  Mr.  Ford  tells  us,  that  its  best  treasures  "bloom 
and  blush  unnoticed  by  the  native."  Our  countryman, 
Mackenzie,  goes  a  little  farther,  and  having,  very  oddly, 
imagined  a  deficiency  of  rural  poetry,  in  a  literature  which 
has  teemed  prodigally  with  it,  from  Juan  de  la  Encina  down, 
proceeds  to  account  for  the  supposed  defect,  by  ascribing 
it  to  "  the  national  indifference  to  rural  attractions."  The 
reader  will  join  me,  I  am  sure,  in  considering  the  imputation 
as  involving,  gravely,  the  refinement  of  the  national  charac- 
ter and  taste. 

It  is  true  that  the  Spaniards  are  not  generally  given 
to  country  life.  The  depopulation  of  many  districts,  and 
the  consequent  isolation  and  insecurity  of  country  houses, 
have  combined  with  a  multitude  of  other  causes,  social 
and  political,  but  in  no  wise  dependent  on  the  public 
taste  or  feeling,  to  gather  the  inhabitants  as  closely  into 
their  cities  and  towns,  as  the  necessities  of  agriculture  will 
allow.  This  fact  properly  put  out  of  the  question,  it  is 
hard  to  understand  how  a  traveler,  with  his  eyes  open, 
could  seriously  arrive  at  the  conclusions  to  which  I  am 
taking  exception.  There  is  scarcely  a  hamlet  in  Spain 
without  its  little  alameda ;  and  in  city,  town,  or  hamlet, 
the  alameda  is  a  rare  one,  that  has  not  its  pleasant  garden. 
Go  along  the  narrow  streets  of  an  Andalusian  city,  and  as 
you  look,  through  the  gratings,  into  the  patios  of  the  houses, 
there  is  scarcely  one,  whose  fountain  does  not  fling  its  little 
spray  over  green  leaves  and  fragrant  blossoms.  In  every 
balcony,  and  along  every  terrace,  are  rows  of  pots  and 
boxes,  with  white  lilies,  crimson  roses,  carnations,  pinks, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  129 

mignionette,  geraniums  of  every  hue,  and  scores  of  beauti- 
ful plants  that  pass  my  botany.  Down  the  walls  hang  all 
sorts  of  creeping  things,  with  gorgeous  blossoms,  like  rich 
tapestry,  forming  a  bright  fringe  to  the  lofty  eaves  between 
which  you  catch  your  glimpses  of  the  sky.  When  I  was 
in  Seville,  during  the  bread  riots,  among  the  most  formid- 
able engines  of  war  in  the  hands  of  the  mob,  were  the 
flower-pots,  dropped  from  the  balconies  on  the  heads  of  the 
soldiery.  When  a  poor  fellow  was  knocked  over  sud- 
denly, and  no  report  of  fire-arms  was  heard,  "  una  maceta- 
daf"  (from  maceta,  a  flower-pot,)  generally  furnished  a 
solution  of  his  difficulties.  This,  to  be  sure,  is  no  great 
evidence  of  the  popular  fondness  for  flowers,  and  was  cer- 
tainly not  likely  to  increase  it  in  the  army  ;  but  it  still 
shows  their  abundance,  even  in  the  cities.  On  the  paseo, 
there  is  scarce  a  beauty  passes  you — on  the  road,  rare  is  the 
peasant  girl  you  meet — without  a  flower  on  her  bosom,  or  a 
rose  in  her  dark  hair.  When  I  visited  Italica,  troops  of 
peasant  children  met  us,  as  we  crossed  the  fields  toward 
the  ruins,  and  they  were  crowned  with  red  poppies,  and 
were  weaving  garlands  of  them  as  they  walked.  "I  have 
often  remarked,"  says  Mr.  Irving,  in  his  Tales  of  the  Al- 
hambra,  "  this  sensibility  of  the  common  people  of  Spain  to 
the  charms  of  natural  objects.  The  luster  of  a  star,  the 
beauty  or  fragrance  of  a  flower,  the  crystal  purity  of  a 
fountain,  will  inspire  them  with  a  kind  of  poetical  delight ; 
and  then  what  euphonious  words  their  magnificent  language 
affords,  with  which  to  give  utterance  to  their  transports  !" 
There  is  hardly  one  of  their  poets,  in  whom  this  warm  ap- 
preciation of  the  beautiful  things  of  earth  and  sky  is  not 
always  breaking  forth ;  and  you  can  scarcely  look  amiss  for 
it,  whether  in  drama,  ballad,  romaunt,  or  pastoral.  One 
of  the  most  striking  and  interesting  peculiarities  of  popular 
taste,  is  the  fondness  for  a  diet,  de  campo — a  country 
day.  Young  and  old  flock  out,  on  Sundays  and  feast- 
days  ;  on  some  particular  festivals  a  whole  city  goes  out,  in 

F* 


130  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

mass,  to  the  fields  and  groves,  to  while  away  the  hours  ; 
and  you  see  pleasant  little  family  groups,  and  larger  parties 
of  both  sexes,  scattered  every  where,  making  the  most  of 
their  holy  day.  Their  sports  are  chiefly  those  which  con- 
versation, dancing,  and  simple  music  furnish  ;  and  as  their 
fare  is  generally  of  the  plainest  and  most  frugal,  it  would 
puzzle  one  to  conceive  what  carries  them  from  home,  but 
love  of  shade  and  sunshine,  fresh  air,  green  fields,  and  flow- 
ers. It  can  not,  certainly,  so  far  as  my  experience  is  a 
criterion,  be  the  mere  attraction  of  driving  over  bad  roads, 
in  tartanas,  calesas,  or  bombes.  It  may  be  the  delights  of 
a  donkey-ride,  but  I  doubt  it. 

The  sea-wall,  which  is  so  striking  a  feature  of  Cadiz 
when  seen  from  the  bay,  is  a  very  important  matter  to  the 
good  people,  in  peace  as  well  as  war.  In  complete  array, 
it  must  have  been  a  very  grim  confronter  of  an  enemy,  and 
the  immense  apartments  within  it,  now  used  as  store-houses, 
must  have  given,  and  might  still  give  shelter,  in  time  of 
need,  to  nearly  the  whole  population.  At  present,  com- 
paratively few  of  its  cannon  are  mounted,  and  there  is  only 
a  sentinel  to  be  seen  here  and  there.  Nevertheless,  as  I 
have  said,  it  has  its  peaceful  uses  which  are  not  to  be 
despised,  and  along  its  ample  circuit  you  will  find  the  whole 
towns-people  in  promenade,  when  the  cooler  hours  come  on 
and  it  is  not  yet  late  enough  for  the  Alameda  to  be  fashion- 
able. Under  the  escort  of  a  kind  acquaintance,  I  determined, 
one  afternoon,  to  try  the  full  sweep  of  it,  and  although  the 
exploit  drew  rather  largely  upon  my  pedestrianism,  I  per- 
formed it.  We  mounted  the  rampart,  near  the  huge  Cus- 
tom-house, the  upper  story  of  which  was  the  temporary 
palace  of  Ferdinand  VII.,  in  1823,  when  the  constitutional 
government  was  driven  from  Seville  by  the  approach  of  the 
Due  d'Angouleme,  and  the  Cortes,  on  the  motion  of  Alcala 
Galiano,  resolved  to  make  his  majesty  pack  up  and  follow 
his  betters.  Rather  a  bad  selection  he  was,  for  company, 
it  must  be  allowed,  this  most  detestable  of  Bourbons ;  but 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  131 

when  enlightened  France,  with  the  connivance  of  free 
Britain,  had  determined  to  force  him  and  his  fourteenth 
century  despotism,  on  a  people  struggling  for  liberty,  there 
was  not  much  room  for  choice.  But  to  our  walk.  Turn- 
ing to  the  right  and  passing  by  the  whole  front  of  the  town, 
we  reached,  at  length,  the  Puerto,  de  Tierra  or  land-gate, 
which  opens  toward  the  isthmus  by  which  the  peninsula  of 
Cadiz  is  tmited  to  the  main-land.  Through  out-work  after 
out-work,  over  draw-bridges  and  along  winding  narrow  ways, 
flanked,  covered,  and  commanded  by  batteries  and  all  im- 
aginable defenses,  to  me  unintelligible  and  even  by  name 
unknown,  we  went  on  until  we  were  fairly  out  of  town,  upon 
a  fine  broad  road,  then  recently  converted  into  a  public 
walking  and  riding  ground.  Crowds  of  people  as  far  as  we 
could  see,  were  taking  the  air,  on  horseback  and  on  foot ;  and 
really  it  was  well  worth  the  trouble,  for  the  fresh  breeze 
from  the  Atlantic  swept  very  gratefully  across  the  peninsula, 
and  the  prospect,  all  around,  was  full  of  cheerfulness  and 
beautiful  life.  Upon  the  right,  the  ocean  rolled,  undivided 
and  supreme  :  behind  us,  the  white  city  closed  the  view. 
Far  down  in  front,  rising  among  the  pleasant  fields  hard  by 
the  isthmus,  was  the  majestic-looking  church  of  San  Jose. 
Upon  the  left,  the  bay  spread  itself,  from  San  Fernando  to 
where  the  Carraca,  the  once  great  arsenal,  expanded  its 
huge  wings,  and  thence  on,  to  where  Puerto  Real,  Puerto  San- 
ta Maria,  and  Rota,  successively,  filled  the  graceful  indenta- 
tions of  the  shores.  In  the  port,  and  further  down  toward 
Puntales,  there  were  many  ships  at  anchor.  Out  at  sea  were 
troops  of  them,  bending  with  crowded  canvas.  The  hedges, 
betAveen  which  we  walked,  did  not  conceal  the  excellent 
cultivation  of  the  fields ;  and  peeping  through  them,  now  and 
then,  we  could  see  the  huge  wheel  of  that  primitive  hydraulic 
apparatus,  called  a  iwria,  which  a  patient  donkey  or  ox  was 
turning,  and  with  every  turn  of  which  came  up  a  row  of 
earthen  vessels,  loosely  strung,  each  of  which,  as  it  reached 
a  certain  height,  flung  its  little  modicum  of  water  into  >» 


132  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

reservoir,  whence  it  flowed  to  make  green  and  fertile  the 
luxuriant  soil  we  saw. 

We  returned  only  when  the  evening  began  to  close  in. 
The  whole  current  of  the  population,  men  and  women,  clergy 
and  laity,  soldier  and  citizen,  was  then  setting  toward  the 
Alameda,  which,  when  we  reached  it,  was  not  the  less 
welcome  for  the  opportunity  of  rest  it  gave  us.  In  spite  of 
fatigue,  however,  a  walk  along  the  walls  of  Cadiz  is  a  pleasant 
thing,  with  a  soft  breeze  blowing :  seeing  the  sun  go  down 
where  the  old  people  imagined  that  the  Atlantis  lay  and  the 
Fortunate  Isles :  feeling  the  sweet  influence  of  the  moon  and 
starlight  afterward,  on  wave  and  rampart,  coast  and  town  : 
pretty  women  all  around  you,  turn  where  you  will,  and  as 
you  get  up  to  the  Alameda,  the  fragrance  of  innumerable 
flowers  loading  the  air  !  Let  him  who  can  find  any  thing 
much  pleasanter,  go  his  ways,  and  make  the  most  of  it. 

"  I  can't  describe  it,  though  so  much  it  strike, 
Nor  liken  it — I  never  saw  the  like." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Journey  to  Xerez — Port  St.  Mary's — The  Calesa — Don  Francisco 
and  his  Chickens — Sherry  Wines  and  Goat-skins — The  Cartuja — 
Xerez — The  Boarding-house — Dona  Maria  de  Leon — Her  Table 
and  Company. 

ON  the  morning  of  my  intended  departure  for  Seville,  it 
pleased  the  steamer  to  disappoint  me,  and  I  determined  to 
make  the  most  of  my  time,  by  a  flying  visit  to  Xerez — one 
of  the 

"  . . . .  pilgrim  shrines — 
Shrines  to  no  code  or  creed  confined ;" 

— the  holy  city  of  good  wine,  brown,  pale,  and  golden.  Ac- 
cordingly, at  eleven,  I  took  the  first  boat,  there  being  just 
breeze  enough  to  keep  one's  head  cool  and  stomach  uneasy, 
in  crossing  the  beautiful  bay.  It  is  cruel  that  one's  ideas 
of  the  picturesque  must  be  so  often  marred  by  the  realities 
of  the  disagreeable.  When  I  first  saw  Capri,  it  seemed  to 
me  to  be  leaping  like  the  goat  it  is  supposed  to  resemble, 
and  as  now  we  approached  Puerto  Santa  Maria,  the  pretty 
town  appeared  to  reel,  as  if  it  were  under  the  united  influence 
of  all  the  good  liquor  in  its  bodegas.  We  had  a  trig  little 
steamer,  however,  to  ferry  us  over,  and  I  happened  to  sit 
next  to  a  fat,  asthmatic  old  gentleman,  who  comforted  me 
in  my  sorrows,  and  being  thus  put  on  confidential  terms 
with  me,  inquired  whether  I  was  on  the  way  to  Xerez. 
I  had,  at  first,  some  doubts  as  to  telling  him  my  plans, 
but  he  did  not  look  like  a  very  bloody-minded  individual, 
and  I  ventured  to  confess.  He  said  that  he  was  very  glad 
of  it,  and  as  he  was  going  the  same  way,  he  would,  if  I 
had  no  objection,  take  a  calesa  with  me,  "as  it  would  be 
cheaper  for  two  than  one,  and  he  knew  a  man  who  did 


134  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

the  job  low,  with  a  nice  carriage."  Nothing  loth,  I  ac- 
cepted the  offer,  and  after  waiting  till  the  procession  of  fat 
old  ladies — who  are  the  first  to  go  ashore  from  all  ferry-boats, 
in  all  countries — had  made  their  slow  and  terrified  passage, 
over  the  narrow  plank  which  the  troubled  sea  kept  dancing, 
I  exposed  my  carpet-bag  to  the  omnipresent  custom-house 
vampires,  and  waited  patiently  for  my  friend  and  his  calesa. 
It  was  soon  in  attendance — a  flashy  vehicle,  indeed,  with 
a  knowing-looking  fellow  at  the  horse's  head,  and,  what  was 
of  much  more  importance,  a  fine  gray  stallion  in  the  shafts, 
sturdy,  strong,  and  full  of  action.  They  had  shorn  his  mane 
down  to  the  very  crest,  and  had  treated  the  ends  of  his  ears 
with  equal  barbarity,  so  that  he  was  tipped  with  black,  in 
spite  of  nature,  and  had  almost  as  knowing  a  physiognomy 
as  his  driver.  Our  luggage  duly  roped  on  behind,  we  our- 
selves were  installed,  and  passing  through  one  of  the  lower 
streets  of  Puerto,  which  offered  a  view  of  nothing  remarkable 
but  a  pretty  suspension  bridge  over  the  Guadalete,  we  crept, 
at  a  snail's  pace,  until  we  reached  the  turnpike  outside  the 
town.  Here  our  gallant  gray  made  a  few  experiments  in 
trotting,  which  soon  satisfied  me  that  calesas  were  not  meant 
for  rapid  motion,  and  I  joined  Don  Francisco  (as  the  driver 
called  him)  in  insisting,  that  all  exhibitions  of  our  charger's 
abilities  should  be  strictly  confined  to  the  smooth  places.  These 
not  being  very  numerous,  our  journey  lasted  more  than  two 
hours,  although  the  distance  is  but  two  leagues.  It  must, 
however,  be  said,  in  justice  to  our  calesero,  that  Spanish 
leagues  are  as  indefinite,  in  length,  as  Scottish  "bittocks." 
They  range,  at  discretion,  from  four  miles  to  two.  There 
is  the  legua  larga  and  the  legua  corta — the  long  league 
and  the  short — but  the  long  and  the  short  of  it  is,  that  you 
know  the  length  of  your  journey  when  you  are  at  the  end 
of  it,  and  not  a  moment  sooner. 

Our  road  lay,  for  some  distance,  between  ranges  of  small 
hills,  or  rather  mounds,  literally  enameled  with  the  brightest 
flowers,  of  every  hue  and  kind.  Then,  the  country  suddenly 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  135 

became  so  rough  and  barren,  that  there  was  scarcely  more 
upon  its  surface  than  the  scanty  grass  for  a  poor  sheep- 
pasture,  and  still  farther  on,  we  passed  quarry  after  quarry, 
where  both  pick- ax  and  gunpowder  would  have  been  needful 
tillers  of  the  soil.  Far  down  upon  the  right,  however,  at 
the  foot  of  the  ridge  we  followed,  was  the  broad  valley 
through  which  the  Guadelete  took  its  devious  course,  and 
there  were  large  herds  of  cattle  and  brood-mares  at  pasture, 
upon  what  appeared,  in  the  distance,  to  be  luxuriant  meadows. 
A  small  sail,  visible,  here  and  there,  along  the  windings  of 
the  stream,  gave  some  liveliness  and  variety  to  the  view, 
which  was  bounded,  farther  on  in  front  and  to  the  right,  by 
the  grand  ranges  of  the  Serrania  de  Ronda. 

About  half  way  our  journey,  I  got  out  at  "  las  Cruces" 
(the  Crosses)  a  couple  of  not  very  remarkable  pillars,  planted 
by  the  road  sides,  for  what  purpose  I  know  not.  They 
were  upon  the  very  crest  of  a  steep  ridge,  which  we  were 
for  some  time  climbing,  and  which  seemed  a  sort  of  natural 
dividing  line,  between  two  regions  of  country  entirely  dis- 
tinct in  cultivation  and  appearance.  Upon  these  pillars 
was  inscribed  the  motto  of  Charles  V.,  "Plus  ultra,"  cer- 
tainly a  very  uncharitable  remembrancer  to  travelers,  if 
meant  to  suggest  that  there  was  still  more  of  the  same  turn- 
pike in  store  for  them.  I  recall  with  pleasure,  however,  the 
view  which  greeted  me  when  I  alighted  from  the  calesa. 
Far  behind  us,  the  Bay  of  Cadiz  girded  the  fairy  city  with 
its  zone  of  azure,  while  before,  a  landscape,  overspread  with 
grain  and  vine,  lay  beautiful,  upon  the  sunny  slopes  of  many 
hills.  Occasionally,  heavy  carts  and  wagons  passed  us, 
laden  with  pipes  of  "  the  rosy ;"  and  when  we  drew  near  the 
Portal  (I  think  that  was  the  name),  the  landing-place  or 
port  of  Xerez,  there  were  many  small  craft  getting  their 
cargoes  on  board,  and  carts  and  many  laborers  busy,  going, 
discharging,  and  returning. 

It  occurs  to  me,  to  notice  here,  the  idea  which  is  quite 
prevalent,  that  the  peculiar  flavor  of  the  sherry  wines  is  due 


136  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

to  the  skins  in  which  they  are  supposed  to  be  transported. 
Captain  Marryatt  expresses  it,  in  his  usual  dashing  way,  in 
one  of  his  novels,  where  he  says,  that  the  taste  of  the  hide 
is  the  one  thing  needful,  and  that  whenever  he  desires  a 
highly  flavored  sherry,  he  throws  a  pair  of  old  boots  into  a 
cask  of  Madeira.  It  is  hard  to  tell  whence  this  notion 
comes,  unless  it  be,  from  the  fact,  that  wine-skins  figure  in 
Don  Quijote's  adventures,  and  as  that  immortal  book  is 
supposed  to  contain  the  substance  and  sum  total  of  the  man- 
ners and  customs,  as  well  as  the  literature  of  the  Peninsula, 
all  Spanish  wines  are  considered  as  in  duty  bound  to  smack 
of  the  goat-skin,  or  forfeit  their  nationality.  Now,  it  un- 
fortunately happens,  that  if  there  be  any  wine  in  Spain, 
which,  by  special  exception,  never  touches  the  cuero,  it  is 
that  particular  species  which  we  call  sherry.  The  district, 
about  Xerez,  which  produces  the  choicest  orthodox  grape,  is 
not  very  large,  and  is  so  gently  undulating  in  its  surface,  as 
to  afford  the  greatest  facility  for  the  transportation  of  the 
wine  in  pipes  and  barrels.  The  same  may  be  said,  almost 
universally,  of  the  neighboring  country,  which  contributes 
to  the  bodegas  of  Xerez,  so  large  a  portion  of  the  wine  that 
makes  up  the  compound  exported.  The  cuero,  therefore, 
which  serves  an  excellent  purpose  in  the  mountainous  dis- 
tricts, where  the  transportation  is,  altogether,  on  the  backs 
of  mules  and  asses,  is  quite  a  supernumerary  article  upon 
the  plains  of  Andalusia,  and  those  critical  gentlemen,  of 
analytical  palates,  who  have  fancied  themselves  drinking 
under  the  influence  of  Capri cornus,  may,  therefore,  study 
Accum,  and  hunt  out,  for  their  satisfaction,  some  poison 
which  has  the  goat-savor. 

My  companion,  Don  Francisco,  was  only  not  stupid,  be- 
cause he  was  very  odd.  He  was  as  good  as  a  Yankee  at 
asking  questions,  though  in  making  guesses  he  would  have 
been  no  honor  to  Connecticut.  Taking  me  to  be  an  English- 
man, and  finding  himself  mistaken,  he  gave  me  almost  every 
nation  of  the  earth  for  a  country,  and  forgot  America  at  last. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  137 


When  I  satisfied  his  curiosity — "  Los  Estados  Unidos"  said 
he,   "  ah  !   yes  !      What  is  the  capital  ?"      "  Washington." 

"  You  live  there,  of  course  ?"      "  Oh,  no,  I  live  in ." 

"  A  great  city,  that,  I  suppose  ?"  Of  course,  I  did  full  just- 
ice, to  say  the  least,  to  the  greatness  of  the  subject.  "  It's 
a  very  cold  country,  isn't  it  ?"  was  the  next  question.  "  Oh, 
very."  "  Well,  how  do  the  people  go  out  in  so  much  snow  ? 
I  am  told  it  is  mountains  high."  "  Not  quite  so  bad  as  all 
that.  We  go  out  easily  enough,  after  the  streets  have  been 
a  little  cleared."  "  Ave  Maria  purithima  !  Well !  have 
you  cattle,  and  mares,  and  vineyards  there  ?"  "  Oh,  yes — 
cattle  and  horses  enough,  but  no  vineyards,  to  speak  of." 
"No?  Well,  what  do  you  do  for  wine?"  "  We  drink  sherry." 
"  Dioth  Mio  !  Ave  Maria  purithima  !  Why,  it  must  be 
a  very  long  way  off."  "  Only  a  few  thousand  miles." 
"  Caramba  !  a  few  thousand  miles  !  Well  !  have  you  any 
chickens  there  ?"  "  Abundance,  of  all  sorts."  "  You  have, 
ha  ?  I  have  four  hundred  and  seven  on  my  cortijo  (farm.) 
I  wish  you  would  go  and  see  my  cortijo.  It  is  far  better 
worth  seeing  than  the  bodegas  of  Xerez.  I  have  three  hund- 
red (and  odd)  mares  and  colts,  and  all  those  chickens" — 
and  so  the  old  man  went  on  chattering,  and  told  me  all  his 
riches,  and  then  questioned  me  about  horses  and  colts  at 
home,  and  asked  whether  we  had  any  calesas  (save  the 
mark  !)  and  when  I  told  him  we  had  coches,  and  railroads, 
he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  said  Ave  Maria  !  with  a  lisp,  again, 
and  wondered  how  much  money  it  must  all  cost.  Then  he 
turned  from  me  to  the  driver,  and  had  a  talk  about  an 
attempt  of  the  toll-gatherer  on  the  turnpike  to  cheat  him ; 
and  the  driver,  being,  of  course,  a  natural  enemy  of  toll-gates, 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  his  wrath,  and  being  a  good  Anda- 
luz  and  muy  valiente,  told  some  wonderful  stories,  in  the 
richest  Andalusian  brogue,  of  his  own  prowess,  in  bullying 
the  guardians  of  the  road,  despite  their  blunderbusses.  At 
every  ten  words,  he  would  bawl  out,  "  Arre  cavayo-o-o-o  ! 
Arre  jaca-a-a-a  /"  to  the  unhappy  gray,  accompanying  the 


138  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 


same  with  some  very  left-handed  compliments  to  his  dam,  and 
then,  getting  emphatic,  he  would  gesticulate  with  his  stick 
upon  the  poor  beast's  bones,  and  we  would  go  up  and  down, 
and  jolt  and  jolt,  until  Don  Francisco  would  get  into  a  fit 
of  coughing,  when  he  would  resume  his  discourse,  and  we 
would  crawl  along  as  before.  I  learned  afterward,  that  Don 
Francisco  was  one  of  the  richest  farmers  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Xerez,  but  a  man  of  queer  notions,  and  accounted,  generally, 
not  altogether  right  in  his  mind.  His  chickens  were  very 
famous,  from  the  fact  that  he  would  have  them  of  no  colors 
but  black  and  white,  so  that  if  any  unfortunate  little  fellow 
chipped  the  shell,  with  the  sin  of  brown,  red,  or  russet  on  his 
head,  it  was,  Off  with  it,  and  so  much  for  chanticleer  !  His 
oxen,  too,  were  all  marked  in  the  same  way,  and  he  would 
sell,  indignantly,  every  trespasser  of  a  calf  that  would  venture 
to  hang  out  a  forbidden  color.  Perhaps,  like  the  learned 
apprentice  in  Scribblerus'  report  of  "  Stradling  vs.  Stiles,"  on 
the  famous  bequest  which  brought  the  "  pyed  horses"  into 
controversy,  he  believed  that  black  and  white,  being  the  two 
extremes,  comprehended  between  them  all  other  colors  what- 
soever. 

As  we  drew  near  Xerez,  the  great  Cartuja  or  Carthu- 
sian Convent  broke  upon  our  view,  some  three  miles  to  the 
right,  a  majestic  structure,  though  now  tenantless,  and  ris- 
ing proudly  over  what  seemed  no  inconsiderable  town.  In 
a  few  moments,  a  turn  of  the  road,  which  winded  between 
vineyards  and  wheat-fields  hedged  in  with  the  formidable 
aloe,  gave  us  a  sight  of  the  wine-city,  cresting  an  elevated 
ridge  most  gracefully,  with  its  gay  white  houses,  belvederes 
and  towers.  Upon  the  edge  of  the  town,  as  we  went  in, 
we  passed  the  royal  Alcazar,  tenanted  by  the  Duke  of  San 
Lorenzo,  as  representative  of  majesty,  and  holding  dominion 
over  a  garden,  blooming  as  prodigal  nature  blooms  only  here. 
Our  gallant  gray,  after  many  arres !  and  much  cracking 
of  whips,  halted  with  us  in  the  center  of  a  fine  plaza,  from 
which  several  wide  and  well-paved  streets  branched  all 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  139 

around.  Every  thing  looked  so  cleanly,  and,  indeed,  so  in- 
dicative of  comfort  and  wealth,  that  I  fancied,  for  a  brief 
moment,  I  had  fallen  upon  one  European  city,  where  pov- 
erty was  the  exception.  Alas  !  it  was  not  long  before  a 
swarm  of  beggars,  numerous  and  greedy,  had  colonized  my 
Utopia. 

The  chief  hostelry  of  the  city  was  under  the  patronage 
of  San  Dionisio,  but  I  had  learned  that  it  was  bad  as 
might  have  been  expected,  from  the  supervision  of  a  guard- 
ian without  any  head,  and  I  directed  Jehu  to  drive  me  to 
the  casa  de  pupilos  of  Dona  Maria  de  Leon,  the  principal 
"  Todgers'  "  of  Xerez.  While  I  was  ringing  for  admit- 
tance, my  friend  Don  Francisco  had  an  attack  of  absence 
of  mind,  and  was  going  off,  leaving  me  to  attend  to  the 
fare.  I  was  receiving  the  old  rogue's  apologies  for  requir- 
ing the  calesero  to  remind  him  of  it,  when  the  door  opened, 
and  Dona  Maria  herself  welcomed  me.  She  had  pleasant 
souvenirs  of  beauty  in  her  big  black  eyes,  though  she  was 
on  the  southern  side  of  forty,  and  there  was  a  bevy  of  good- 
looking  damsels  sitting  at  work  in  the  back-ground,  from 
whose  midst  she  came  to  me,  and  whom  Mr.  Ford,  if  he 
had  seen  them,  would  have  likened,  I  am  sure,  to  the  hand- 
maidens of  Andromache  or  Penelope.  I  liked  the  looks  of 
the  establishment,  and  determined,  at  once,  that  the  accom- 
modations must  be  quite  intolerable  to  prevent  my  domesti- 
cating myself.  Dona  Maria  seemed  to  have  made  up  her 
mind  that  I  was  to  be  easily  pleased,  for  she  at  first  showed 
me  a  chamber,  which  had  the  slight  disadvantage  of  having 
no  windows,  but  then  it  opened  on  the  gallery,  she  said, 
and  by  keeping  my  door  open  I  would  incommode  no  one, 
she  assured  me,  and  might  be  as  cheerful  as  a  lark.  I 
thanked  her,  but  begged  to  see  farther,  and  she  conducted 
me,  with  due  ceremony,  to  what  she  called  her  sala,  or 
parlor,  which,  she  said,  was  a  fine  room,  and  fronted  on 
the  street.  Poor  creature  !  she  had  done  her  best  to  make 
it  luxurious,  so  far  as  cleanliness  could  go,  but  the  brick 


140  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

floor,  with  two  or  three  scant  mats  of  rush  upon  it ;  the 
rush-bottomed  chairs,  and  the  sofa — which  I  should  like  to 
have  a  patent  for,  as  the  best  substitute  for  pavement  I 
have  ever  seen  (not  excepting  the  asphaltum  and  bitumin- 
ous)— were  by  no  means  relieved  of  their  dreariness  by  the 
moldy  and  spotted  mirror,  and  the  effigies  of  "  la  belle 
Russe,"  "la  jeune  Savoy arde"  and  li la  coquette  Franpaise" 
short-waisted,  be-feathered,  and  be-rufFed,  which  hung  in 
melancholy  water-colors  on  the  walls.  To  a  man,  however, 
who  had  already  taken  a  large  part  of  his  allotted  "peck," 
in  many  a  grand  hotel  of  France  and  Italy,  neatness  was 
no  small  temptation,  so  I  at  once  ordered  the  cot  to  be 
transferred  from  the  windowless  alcove,  and  possessed  my- 
self of  the  sala,  with  all  the  appurtenant  respectability 
which  its  occupation  seemed  to  give,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
household.  This  done,  I  sallied  out  in  quest  of  the  family 
to  whose  kindness  my  friends  had  consigned  me. 

Having  a  fondness  for  making  my  own  way  in  strange 
places,  I  took  a  general  topographical  description  from  Dona 
Maria,  and  traveled,  as  I  supposed,  according  to  the  chart, 
but  I  was  soon  at  fault,  and  picking  up  a  beggar  who  said 
he  knew  the  place,  determined  to  make  him  earn  the  coppers 
he  was  boring  me  for.  Beggars  in  Spain,  however,  have  lost 
neither  the  cunning  nor  the  rascality  of  the  days  of  Guzman 
de  Alfarache  and  Lazarillo  de  Tormes.  My  guide,  on  this 
occasion,  took  every  sly  opportunity  of  making  inquiries,  as  he 
went  along,  and  I  accidentally  perceived,  in  overhearing  one 
of  them,  that  he  had  forgotten  the  name  of  the  person  I  was 
looking  for,  whereupon  I  gave  him  a  peseta  and  told  him  to 
go  to  the  devil,  which  he  most  amiably  rejoined  to,  by  bid- 
ding me  "  go  with  God,  who  would  pay  my  worship  the 
peseta!"  By  good  luck,  as  soon  as  I  got  rid  of  him,  I 
stumbled  upon  the  place  I  was  in  search  of — a  fine  mansion, 
fronting  on  a  very  pretty  plaza,  and  rejoicing  in  one  of  the 
most  delightful  patios  I  had  seen,  filled  with  orange  and 
lemon-trees  and  fragrant  flowers. 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  141 

When  I  went  to  dinner,  I  found  that  Dona  Maria  had 
her  table  set  in  a  little  dark  room,  the  shadows  of  which  fell, 
charitably,  upon  the  ill-appointed  and  strangely  untidy  board. 
At  the  head  of  the  table  sate  a  stout  gentleman  called  Don 
Pedro,  who,  I  was  told,  was  an  empleado  of  the  Custom- 
house. Don  Somebody-else  was  a  black-mustached  gentle- 
man, without  a  cravat,  who  was  sullen  and  very  hungry. 
Dona  Maria's  mother  and  plump  little  niece  made  up  the 
party,  the  good  landlady  herself  joining  in,  now  and  then, 
between  the  changes  of  the  plates.  What  they  called  the 
soup,  was  bread,  boiled  in  some  very  savory  mixture  or 
other,  all  of  which  was  absorbed,  or  had  otherwise  departed. 
The  caballeros  pushed  it  to  me,  and  insisted  on  my  taking  the 
first  dip.  Then  came  the  boiled  beef,  soft  and  tasteless,  all  its 
substance  having,  no  doubt,  been  contributed  to  the  soup :  next 
was  what  they  called  the  puchero,  a  mixture- of  avichwelas 
(which  are  a  bean,  like  our  hominy-bean),  with  a  whole 
kitchen-garden  of  other  vegetables  and  greens.  A  sort  of  a 
stew  of  veal  then  followed,  which  was  succeeded  by  a  salad, 
oranges,  cheese,  raisins,  and  finis  !  I  did  justice  to  it  all  as 
well  as  I  was  able,  though  the  perfect  saturation  of  every  thing 
with  oil,  required  frequent  recourse  to  a  bottle  of  fine  Manza- 
nilla,  which  Dona  Maria  procured  for  me.  They  asked  me  all 
sorts  of  questions,  as  to  where  I  came  from,  and  the  sort  of 
country  mine  was  ;  all  of  which  I  answered  as  patiently  as 
possible,  though  I  had  to  begin  at  the  very  beginning,  for  they 
were  not  well  posted  in  geography  ;  but  they  were  amiable 
people,  though  simple,  and  as  civil  and  kind  as  the  day  was 
long.  Dona  Maria  was  very  much  inclined,  when  she 
knew  I  was  from  America,  to  send  a  message,  by  me,  to  a 
relative  of  hers,  who,  she  observed  to  her  company,  lived  in 
"  el  pais  del  Senor"  (the  gentleman's  country),  to  wit, 
somewhere  on  the  Spanish  Main.*  On  rising  from  the  table, 

*  Spain  is  not  the  only  country,  in  which  an  American  hears 
mysterious  things  about  his  native  land.  In  Avignon,  I  made  inquiries 
from  the  agent  of  the  diligence,  in  regard  to  some  passengers  with 


142  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

each  guest,  in  his  turn,  wished  that  the  meal  might  do  me 
good — Buen  provecho  le  haga  a  vmd.  caballero!  Not  to 
be  outdone,  I  got  up,  while  the  old  lady  was  still  eating,  and 
expressed  the  desire,  in  my  best  Castilian,  that  she  might 
profit  by  it,  likewise ;  a  thing  more  likely  to  happen.  I 
thought,  in  the  hispaniolized  state  of  her  epigastrics,  than 
the  less  accustomed  condition  of  mine. 

whom  I  was  to  be  thrown  into  rather  close  quarters.  "  They  are 
Americans,"  he  said ;  "at  all  events  they  have  a  black  (un  noir)  with 
them,  who  must  be  an  American,  or  African,  or  something  of  the  sort 
(dimericain,  ^.fricain^  ou  quelque  chose  comme  f(i).:t  My  companions 
were  from  Algeria,  and  the  noir  was  their  servant — black  as  Egypt, 
and  wearing  a  turban,  slippers,  and  bag-trowsers  ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Xerez — Population — The  Bodegas — Wines — Manzanilla — The  Prep- 
aration of  Wines — American  and  English  Markets — Prices — Vine- 
yards—  Manners  of  the  People — Churches  —  The  Storks  of  San 
Miguel — May-day — Return  to  Cadiz — Louis  Philippe's  Birth-day. 

XEREZ  passes  for  a  city  of  thirty-two  thousand  inhabitants. 
My  friend,  however,  informed  me,  that  as  the  census  and 
other  statistics  are  furnished  by  the  ayuntamiento  or  mu- 
nicipality, and  as  both  taxes  and  conscriptions  are  regulated 
by  the  reported  population,  this  latter  is  extremely  apt  to 
fall  below  its  actual  rate,  in  the  official  returns.  This  fact 
considered,  those  who  are  in  the  secret  believe  that  there 
are,  at  least,  fifty  thousand  souls  within  the  precincts  of 
Xerez.  To  all  of  these,  men,  women,  and  children,  and  to 
the  strangers  who  come  among  them,  the  bodegas  are  nat- 
urally the  objects  of  chief  interest.  I  visited  several  of  these 
great  store-houses,  and  they  were  certainly  on  a  gigantic  scale. 
In  one  of  them,  there  were  five  thousand  butts  of  wine,  and 
it  had  not  more  than  two-thirds  of  its  complement.  It  was, 
as  they  all  are,  of  a  single  story,  entirely  above  ground,  and 
without  windows,  the  roof  rising  loftily,  and  supported  upon 
columns  of  substantial  and  not  ungraceful  structure.  By 
skillful  management,  a  perfect  ventilation  is  kept  up,  while 
heat  and  glare  are  carefully  excluded,  and  the  change  of 
temperature  that  greets  you,  as  you  enter  the  great  doors,  is 
not  the  least  attractive  thing  in  your  tour  of  observation. 
The  casks  are  piled,  one  above  the  other,  along  the  sides, 
and  there  are  broad  rows  of  them,  that  divide  the  body  of 
the  building  into  spacious  aisles.  Every  thing  is  neat,  com- 
fortable, and  carefully  arranged  and  kept,  so  that  Father 
Mathew  might  well  tremble,  at  seeing  the  snug  quarters,  in 


144  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

which  the  soldiers  of  King  Alcohol  wax  stronger  and  strongei 
for  the  fight. 

All  bodegas  are  alike,  except  in  size,  to  him  who  will  not 
or  can  not  drink,  and  all  are  likely  soon  to  become  so,  to  him 
who  will,  unless  he  be  carefully  on  the  lookout  against 
temptation.  A  piece  of  reed,  nicely  fastened  to  a  staff,  is 
always  at  hand,  to  fathom  the  depths  of  the  good  cheer. 
The  capataz,  or  manager,  who  goes  the  rounds  with  you, 
is  generally  a  man  with  a  red  nose,  and  most  unbounded 
stomach,  whose  practiced  palate  is  the  arbiter  of  flavors,  and 
whose  head  has  grown  invincible,  from  much  tasting.  He 
is  dangerous  company.  Fortunately,  I  had  an  invalid's 
privilege,  to  refuse  without  being  considered  rude,  and  I 
came  away  in  better  plight  than,  if  report  speaks  true,  all 
travelers  are  wont :  although,  of  course,  I  brought  away 
writh  me,  in  consequence,  much  less  than  the  usual  expe- 
rience of  what  is  good.  Nevertheless,  I  do  remember  me, 
especially,  of  an  amontillado,  which  had  seen  thirty  honest 
years  and  more — mellow  as  autumn,  and  fragrant  as  the 
spring.  It  could  jiot  have  been  the  only  thing  I  tasted,  for 
I  recollect  it  as  the  best ;  and  that  implies  three  degrees  of 
comparison,  as  the  reader  may  be  supposed  to  know. 

Those  who  may  be  curious  in  such  matters,  will  find  a 
good  deal  of  interesting  information  on  the  subject  of  sherry 
wines,  in  Mr.  Ford's  Hand-book,  and  a  good  deal  more 
(with  less  Latin  and  Greek  interspersed),  in  the  second 
volume  of  Cook's  (Widdrington's)  Sketches.  If  I  venture 
to  mention  a  few  facts,  which  I  had  on  the  spot,  from  those 
who  knew,  I  trust  no  one  will  charge  me  with  the  folly  of 
supposing  myself  made  suddenly  wise,  by  having  spent  one 
day  of  my  life  among  the  bodegas.  It  may  be  risked,  at  all 
events,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  may  chance  to  know 
even  less  of  the  matter  than  myself. 

No  sherry  exported,  not  even  the  best,  is  a  simple,  unpre- 
pared production  of  nature.  It  is,  all  of  it,  the  resuU  of  time, 
mixture,  and  much  doctoring.  The  finest,  is  the  growth  of 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  115 

the  district  immediately  about  Xerez,  and  its  natural  purity 
is  only  violated,  by  the  admixture  of  something  better  of  the 
same  sort.  The  oldest,  richest,  and  most  generous  wines,  are 
kept  and  used,  especially,  to  give  body,  strength,  and  flavor 
to  the  newer  ones  that  need  them.  The  inferior  qualities 
come  from  the  districts  along  the  coast.  These  last,  good 
enough  in  themselves  and  when  left  to  themselves,  become 
any  thing  but  nectar  by  the  time  they  have  been  manufac- 
tured into  sherry.  Some  of  them,  to  be  sure,  enriched  by 
the  judicious  admixture  of  the  vino  jcneroso,  become  sound 
and  respectable  wines,  and  there  is  no  knowing  how  much 
of  homely  San  Lucar,  and  even  dry  Malaga,  passes  into  the 
cellars  and  down  the  throats  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  yearly, 
with  the  name  and  at  the  cost  of  the  ripest  Jerezano. 
But  this  is  not  the  worst.  Immense  quantities,  prepared 
especially  for  exportation,  at  cheap  rates,  have  their  principal 
virtues  given  to  them  by  the  liberal  use  of  bad  brandy,  and 
it  is  with  these,  chiefly,  that  the  sherry-drinking  world  is 
drugged.  The  British  books  say,  that  this  goes  principally 
to  the  United  States,  but  Theophile  Gautier  is  quite  positive 
that  its  chief  destination  is  England,  for,  says  he,  "  to  please 
the  British  gullet,  wine  must  go  disguised  as  rum  !"  John 
Bull,  however,  has  all  the  choicest,  and  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
that  the  capataz  of  one  of  the  most  extensive  establishments 
assured  me,  he  had  not,  during  a  service  of  from  twenty  to 
thirty  years,  known  one  parcel  of  the  best  wine  to  start  on 
the  voyage  to  America.  A  wine  of  fine  quality,  eight  or 
ten  years  old,  will  cost,  at  Xerez,  at  least  four  dollars  the 
gallon.  Those  who  know  what  our  tariffs  are  and  have 
been,  and  who  can  calculate  the  cost  of  transportation,  may 
judge,  from  the  range  of  prices  with  us,  whether  his  asser- 
tion was  not  a  correct  one. 

As  in  all  wine-growing  districts,  circumstances  of  location, 
apparently  the  most  trivial,  give  the  greatest  variety  of 
flavor  to  the  sherry  which  is  produced  even  within  the 
orthodox  limits.  Nevertheless,  a  great  many  of  the  nice 

G 


146  GLIMPSES   OF    SPAIN. 

distinctions,  which  we  outside  barbarians  most  particularly 
appreciate,  are  produced  by  artificial  and  often  chemical 
means.  The  amontillado  flavor,  which  derives  its  name 
from  its  resemblance  to  that  of  the  wine  from  about  Montilla, 
higher  up  the  Guadalquivir,  is  as  often  the  work  of  art  as 
nature,  and,  indeed,  there  is  scarce  a  kind  or  quality,  for  the 
making  of  which  there  is  not  its  appropriate  recipe. 

The  Spaniards,  who  know  all  these  things,  trouble  the 
strong  sherries  but  very  little.  They  prefer  the  simple, 
natural  wines.  The  great  favorite  throughout  Andalusia 
is  the  manzanilla,  which  grows  down  toward  San  Lucar 
and  Port  St.  Mary's,  and  has  its  name  (which  signifies 
chamomile)  from  its  peculiar,  bitter  flavor.  This  delicious, 
though  simple  beverage,  in  its  natural  state  is  of  a  light 
straw-color,  and  is  tonic  and  refreshing,  without  too  much 
stimulus.  Its  cheapness  and  abundance  are  such,  that  you 
can  rely  with  certainty  upon  its  purity,  and  there  would  be 
no  difficulty  whatever  in  having  it  as  good  in  the  United 
States  as  in  Cadiz.  My  capataz,  a  bottle-nosed  old  Astu- 
rian,  who  had  been  nursed  and  fed,  boy  and  man,  upon  the 
vino  fuerte  (the  strong  wines),  spoke  very  contemptuously 
of  manzanilla.  "No  es  cosa,"  he  said — "it  is  nothing  to 
speak  of.  It  may  be  fashionable,  like  champagne,  but  nei- 
ther of  them  is  worth  having — no  vale  nada  ninguno  de 
los  dos."  He  admitted,  however,  that  it  had  the  advant- 
age, even  over  sherry,  of  being  a  purely  natural  wine,  and 
he  told  me  that,  at  five  or  six  years  old,  of  good  quality,  it 
ought  to  be  sent  to  the  United  States  for  a  dollar  the  gal- 
lon. I  am  able,  from  my  own  knowledge,  to  verify  his 
assertion.  Did  the  reader  ever  buy  any  manzanilla,  in  our 
beloved  country  ?  If  not,  let  him  make  the  experiment. 
He  will  find  it  under  various  names  :  from  that  which  be- 
longs to  it,  down  to  "  Massaniello  sherry  !"  When  he  has 
paid  for  it,  he  will  find  how  much  it  costs  a  man,  sometimes, 
to  learn  to  what  extent  the  world  is  humbugged.  The  En- 
glish are  beginning  to  buy  large  quantities  of  manzanillat 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  147 

and  Mr.  Ford  eloquently  apostrophizes — "  Drink  it,  ye  dys- 
peptics !"  If,  however,  what  reaches  the  English  market 
is  as  badly  be-sherried  and  be-brandied  as  the  mass  of  what 
is  palmed  on  us  here,  it  strikes  me  that  I  should  prefer 
recommending  the  wine  antimonial. 

The  Hand-book  sets  down  Xerez  as  a  "  straggling,  ill- 
built,  ill-drained  Moorish  city."  I  walked  through  it  and 
around  it,  and  saw  it,  moreover,  from  the  azotea  or  terrace 
of  a  mansion  in  a  commanding  situation,  and  I  must  bear 
witness  that  my  impression  was  a  different  one  ;  for  the  city 
seemed  to  me  to  be  well  and  neatly  built,  and,  in  all  re- 
spects, above  the  average  of  comfort  and  good  taste.  I  had, 
too,  on  the  afternoon  of  my  arrival,  a  fine  view  of  its  en- 
virons, from  the  lofty  belvedere  of  one  of  the  bodegas  that 
I  visited.  The  sun  was  declining  when  we  went  up,  but 
the  atmosphere  was  so  wonderfully  clear,  that  we  could 
distinctly  see  the  town  of  Medina  Sidonia,  full  six  or  seven 
leagues  off,  shining  among  the  mountains  that  bounded  the 
horizon  to  the  southeast.  Toward  the  east,  in  bold  relief, 
shot  up  the  rugged  Sierra  de  Honda,  while  all  around  us 
and  about  Xerez,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  sweep  distinctly, 
was  a  green,  undulating  meadow,  covered  with  vines, 
grain,  and  olives,  and  in  as  perfect  cultivation  as  heart 
could  desire. 

Descending,  we  went  into  the  vineyard  of  the  proprietor, 
where  some  laborers  were  breaking  up  the  ground.  They 
were  using  immense,  broad  hoes,  short  handled  and  clumsy 
to  look  at,  but  they  did  the  business  rapidly  and  well,  leaving 
the  earth  as  fresh,  as  level,  and  as  free  from  grass  and  weeds, 
as  if  plow  and  patent  harrow  had  been  working  wonders  for 
a  show.  The  courteous  manners  of  the  Spaniards,  and  the 
republican  equality  which  really  dignifies  their  intercourse, 
were  illustrated  by  the  greetings  which  passed  between  my 
companions  and  these  laborers,  who  were  peasants  of  the 
humblest  class.  Each  gave  the  other,  with  all  formality  and 
with  hat  raised,  the  title  of  caballero!  when  they  met,  and 


148  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

each,  as  respectfully,  when  they  parted,  commended  his  ca- 
ballero  to  God's  holy  keeping.  "Mas  alcanza  el  sombrero 
que  la  espada,"  is  an  old  Castilian  proverb,  and  it  means, 
that,  with  the  hat,  you  can  do  more  than  with  the  sword. 
In  some  sense,  this  is  but  a  scrap  of  the  Mac  Sycophant  phi- 
losophy, and  will  hardly  pass  muster  as  a  sentiment.  It  is 
not,  nevertheless,  without  its  better  moral,  which  might  be 
studied  advantageously  by  some,  who  have  a  horror  of  what 
they  call  "  a  nation  of  dancing-masters."  Courtesy,  even 
the  most  ceremonious,  though  it  asks  tribute  for  ourselves, 
pays  tribute  to  others  and  their  feelings,  and  can  not,  there- 
fore, but  have  something  of  love  and  charity  about  it.  Emp- 
ty, sometimes,  it  can  not  always  be  separate  from  what  it 
seerns,  and,  in  this  better  light,  it  indicates  a  worthier  and 
higher  element  in  the  character  of  nations,  than  will  be  found 
in  noisier  and  more  prosperous  virtues  that  we  wot  of.  A 
people  is  not  always  honest,  because  it  is  blunt ;  although, 
perhaps,  it  would  not  be  hard  to  find  some  great  nations  that 
make  the  mistake  of  thinking  so. 

Our  stroll  about  the  city  carried  me,  by  the  Plaza  de  To- 
ros  and  the  new  Alameda,  to  the  fine  old  old  church  of  San- 
tiago, whose  beautiful  fapade,  though  worn  by  time,  still 
bears  upon  its  graceful  canopies  the  magic  traces  of  the  Goth- 
ic chisel.  Passing  thence,  around  by  the  old  Moorish  walls 
with  their  still  unbroken  turrets,  we  came  upon  the  Colegi- 
ata,  whose  overcharged  and  heavy  architecture  was  most 
pleasantly  seen  under  the  shadows  of  twilight.  The  doors 
were  open,  and  we  entered.  The  interior  was  dusky — al- 
most dark.  A  few  candles  were  lighted  upon  a  single  altar, 
and  a  priest  was  kneeling  before  it,  reading  some  prayers,  to 
which  a  few  school-boys  were  responding,  in  that  peculiar 
treble  approaching  a  caterwaul,  which  is  so  characteristic  of 
scholastic  devotional  exercises,  among  all  nations  and  creeds. 
With  this  solitary  interruption,  darkness  and  silence  had  the 
church  to  themselves  ;  and  our  echoing  footsteps,  as  we  trod 
up  and  down  the  aisles ;  the  dim  glimpses  of  column,  arch, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  149 

and  cornice  ;  the  shadowy  high  altar,  and  gloomy  choir, 
gave  semblance  of  awe  to  the  huge  building,  which  it  want- 
ed, I  found  afterward,  in  brighter  hours. 

Never  having  been  in  Holland,  I  saw  storks:  for  the  first 
time,  upon  the  venerable  church  of  San  Miguel,  among 
whose  broken  pinnacles  their  nests  remain  inviolate.  The 
grand  Gothic  doorways  of  this  antique  temple  have  almost 
crumbled  into  dust  beneath  the  feet  of  Time,  and  what  is 
left  of  the  once  delicate  tracery  upon  the  columns  and  cano- 
pies within,  is  barbarously  bedaubed  with  whitewash.  The 
reader  may  well  imagine  how  such  Vandalism  spoils  one's 
temper,  when  he  is  told  that  the  great  columns,  thus  defiled, 
are  a  perfect  labyrinth  of  fret- work,  and  that  each  separate 
one  has  its  peculiar  ornaments,  differing  from  all  the  rest. 
Nevertheless,  San  Miguel  is  pleasant  to  look  upon,  in  the 
bright  spring-time,  and  the  old  storks  seem  proud  of  it. 
There  they  stand,  upon  buttress  or  crocket,  looking  down, 
gravely,  on  the  faithful  who  enter.  Occasionally  they  spread 
their  long  wings,  and,  soaring  up  into  the  air  amid  swallows 
and  martlets  and  innumerable  twitterers,  sweep  around  the 
church  and  sail  back,  solemnly,  to  their  duty  on  the  watch- 
towers.  A  grave  and  dignified  bird  they  are — muy  comedi- 
dos — well  behaved  in  all  things.  Their  very  color — all 
white,  save  a  fringe  of  black  upon  the  wings — has  a  smack 
of  clerical  costume,  and  they  might  be  taken,  by  a  reasonable 
metempsychosis,  to  be  inhabited  by  the  souls  of  curas  and 
canonigos,  long  since  departed  from  their  stalls. 

May  1.  Flowery  May  never  came  to  me,  before,  in 
such  becoming  garments.  I  was  awakened,  bright  and 
early,  by  the  chattering  of  the  gossips  and  the  cries  of  the 
venders  of  all  sorts  of  wares,  in  the  Plaza  hard  by.  When 
I  looked  out,  I  found  it  as  bright  and  beautiful  a  morning, 
as  that  which  shone  on 

"  Zephyr,  with  Aurora  playing, 
As  he  met  her  once,  a-Maying." 

Not  a  being  or  a  thing  was  there  in  sight,  that  was  not 


150  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

perfectly  Spanish.  On  the  Alameda,  the  night  before,  I  had 
seen  an  occasional  frock-coat  and  French  hat.  Now»  there 
was  nothing  but  the  knowing  calanes,  the  short  jacket,  and 
red  sash.  Here  arid  there,  a  water-carrier — his  donkey 
roofed  over  with  moist-looking  jars — was  knocking  impa- 
tiently at  the  closed  gate  of  a  lazy  customer.  On  one  side 
was  an  arriero,  getting  his  reata,  or  long  string  of  mules, 
into  line,  each,  like  a  philosophical  follower  of  precedents, 
with  his  muzzle  tied  to  the  tail  of  his  "  illustrious  predeces- 
sor." Across  the  way,  was  a  group  of  peasants  who  had 
just  come  into  town,  leaning  on  their  long  staves  ;  tall,  mus- 
cular, and  well-formed  men,  with  health  and  spirit  in  every 
line  of  their  bronzed  faces.  Sitting  quietly  upon  his  horse, 
or  rather,  balancing  himself  in  his  stirrups,  and  just  ready  to 
be  off  to  the  country,  was  a  gentleman,  a  gallant  and  well- 
mounted  rider,  with  his  gun  swinging  at  his  can  tie.  A  beg- 
gar, in  a  tattered,  dark-brown  cloak,  was  hugging  the  wall, 
near  a  wine-shop  ;  a  trim  lady,  prayer-book  in  hand,  refused 
him  alms,  as  she  passed  on  to  mass,  to  open  her  day's  ac- 
counts ;  while  an  old  woman,  bending  under  an  osier-basket 
of  some  vegetable  or  other,  was  yelling  in  a  style  which 
might  have  saved  the  lady  the  trouble,  by  driving  all  the 
devils  out  of  Xerez.  All  these  sights  and  sounds  I  saw  and 
heard  in  a  brief  parenthesis  of  waking,  for,  so  much  fatigued 
was  I  with  the  labors  of  the  day  before,  that  I  got  me  to 
bed  and  sleep  again,  until  Dona  Maria's  household  gave 
audible  symptoms  of  breakfast. 

Poor  Dofia  Maria  !  it  is  hardly  fair  to  let  in  upon  her 
homely  board  the  light  she  studiously  shut  out  from  it — but 
I  have  conscientiously  told  whatever  of  good  I  have  met  in 
my  travel,  and  it  will  not  do  to  disguise  the  bad.  She  gave 
me  what  she  called  "  te,"  most  unhappily  translated  into 
Spanish  :  an  omelette  fried  in  much  oil,  and  some  good 
bread,  that  did  itself  great  injustice  by  keeping  company 
with  a  carrot-colored  compound,  called  "  manteca  deflandes" 
or  Flemish  butter.  "  Our  armies  swore  terribly  in  Flanders, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  151 

cried  my  uncle  Toby,"  and  well  they  might,  if  they  were 
made  to  eat  the  like  :  for  the  Christianity  of  the  most  ortho- 
dox old-time  Castilian — Cristiano,  viejo,  rancio — never  \vas 
more  rancid.  Having  done  justice  to  this  meal,  which  con- 
sisted in  leaving  as  much  of  it  as  possible,  I  took  a  turn 
about  the  town,  and  having  made  my  adieus  to  the  kind  and 
civil  gentleman,  whose  un remitted  and  polite  attention  had 
stood  me  in  so  much  stead,  I  parted  company,  at  noon,  with 
Dona  Maria,  her  ninas,  and  the  good  city  of  Xerez. 

In  an  hour  and  three-quarters,  I  was  at  Port  St.  Mary's. 
The  calesero,  with  whom  I  had  made  the  journey  up  was 
my  Jehu  down  also,  and,  as  I  was  alone,  both  he  and  the 
gray  seemed  to  think  trotting  could  not  hurt  me.  A  rival, 
with  a  gaudy  and  fantastic  vehicle,  made  play  at  us  in  the 
beginning  of  the  drive,  and  we  had  a  tight  race  of  it,  until 
the  gray  fairly  distanced  the  chestnut.  Jehu  seemed  to  take 
quite  a  pride  in  it,  for  the  opposition  line  was  obviously  a 
new  and  grand  affair,  the  calesero  having  a  huge  flower-pot 
with  flowers,  in  colored  cloth,  inserted  in  the  back  of  his 
jacket,  and  a  magnificent  display,  to  match,  painted  in  the 
rear  of  his  calesa.  "  I'll  beat  him,  senor,"  said  my  man, 
"  como  quince  mil  demonios — like  fifteen  thousand  devils." 
If  the  reader  can  conceive  himself,  cceteris  paribus,  on  the 
inside  of  a  kettle,  and  the  kettle  tied  to  a  frightened  dog's 
tail,  he  may  have  some  faint  idea  of  what  driving  in  a  calesa 
feels  like,  when  the  respectable  number  of  evil  spirits  men- 
tioned above  concern  themselves  in  the  business.  It  was 
only  when  we  were  in  the  arms  of  victory,  and  the  vanquished 
out  of  sight,  that  coachee  unbent  himself  and  regaled  me 
with  a  little  Andalusian  democracy,  suggested  by  a  story  he 
had  heard,  that  morning,  of  a  rich  marquis,  who  had  said 
that  poor  people  ought  to  eat  brown  bread,  and  be  glad. 
"  Que  lo  coman  su  padre  y  su  madre  /"  he  exclaimed  in 
his  wrath — "  may  his  father  and  his  mother  eat  it !" 

As  we  drew  near  Puerto,  I  could  but  wonder  again  and 
again   at   the   prodigies   of  flowers,  scattered   every  where 


152  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

among  the  grain  and  between  the  stones — on  hill  and  hedge 
— in  ditch  and  meadow.  We  could  see  our  little  steamer, 
however,  making  its  way  to  meet  us,  and  there  was  no  time 
for  courting  Flora.  I  reached  the  Hotel  de  1' Europe  in 
good  season  for  dinner,  and  finished  my  day  by  a  charming 
walk  along  the  ramparts  and  the  Alameda.  It  was  the 
birth-day  of  Louis  Philippe,  and  a  French  war  steamer  that 
was  in  the  offing,  bedecked  with  innumerable  colors,  fired  a 
salute  in  his  honor,  as  the  sun  went  down.  A  Swedish  cor- 
vette in  port  joined  in  the  amusement.  Who  salutes  the 
Count  de  Neuilly  now  ?  Even  Punch  laughs  at  Mr.  Smith, 
for  being  polite  to  him  in  the  railway  wagons  ! 

"  Sus  infinitos  tesoros, 
Sits  villas  y  sus  lugares, 
Y  su  mandar, 
Que  lefueron  sino  lloros, 
Que  fueron  sino  pesares, 
Jlldejar?" 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Fair  at  Puerto  Real — The  Star-spangled  Banner — The  Balon  and 
Theatrical  Performances — Spanish  Dancing-girls. 

ON  the  second  of  May,  the  fair  at  Puerto  Real,  across 
the  Bay  of  Cadiz,  was  to  begin  its  three  days'  frolic  ;  and 
although  it  was  Sunday,  T  found  myself,  at  half-past  ten,  on 
board  the  launch  which  was  to  bear  me  to  the  steamer,  with 
the  rest  of  the  sinners  in  like  case  offending.  "We  were  soon 
off,  and  went  by,  in  their  turn,  the  famous  and  now  dis- 
mantled batteries  of  the  Trocadero  on  the  other  shore  of  the 
bay,  the  fort  of  Puntales  on  the  Cadiz  side,  and  all  the 
other  fortifications  with  which  the  peninsula,  the  isthmus, 
and  the  coast  about  are  bristling.  Then  stretching  round, 
in  full  view  of  the  Carraca  and  the  town  of  San  Fernando, 
we  speedily  dropped  anchor  at  Puerto  Real,  and  were  taken, 
ashore  in  launches,  through  a  very  heavy  swell.  We  carried 
with  us,  of  course,  a  good  many  folks,  young  and  old,  in  the 
sombrero  calanes,  and  duly  bedizened  with  gay  cravats  and 
handkerchiefs,  jackets,  vests,  and  sashes.  We  soon  found, 
however,  that  Puerto  Real  had  finery  enough  of  its  own. 
Every  street,  of  any  note,  was  rustling  with  banners.  They 
were  flaunting  from  the  terraces  and  balconies,  and  swinging 
all  across  the  ways  from  ropes  hung  in  the  air.  All  the 
nations  of  the  earth  were  represented,  and  many,  below  it 
or  above  it  but  certainly  not  on  it,  had  streamers  glancing 
in  the  sun.  From  the  top  of  one  large  house,  the  flags  of 
the  United  States,  France,  and  Great  Britain  were  flutter- 
ing together.  I  was  alarmed  for  a  moment,  when  I  first 
caught  sight  of  the  spangled  banner — a  vision,  usually, 

"  Welcome  as  the  hand 
Of  brother,  in  a  foreign  land." 
G* 


154  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

They  had  managed,  unfortunately,  to  make  it  look  a  little 
ragged,  and  had  actually  extinguished  one  of  the  stars,  with 
a  big  patch.  Who  knows,  thought  I,  but  that  during  the 
short  half-year  I  have  been  from  home,  some  bright  par- 
ticular star,  after  long  promising,  has  shot  right  chivalrously 
from  its  sphere,  at  last  ?  Another  look,  however,  soon  satis- 
fied me  that  the  rent  had  been  produced  by  the  gnawing 
of  rats,  and  no  dissolution  of  the  Union,  so  I  made  my  salute, 
with  all  my  heart,  to  the  stars  and  stripes  that  were  left. 
If,  at  that  distance  from  us,  the  good  people  had  actually 
taken  our  orators  at  their  word,  and  supposed  the-  confederacy 
at  an  end,  as  it  so  often  is,  in  speeches,  I  should  have  had 
no  cause  to  wonder  ;  so  I  made  up  my  mind,  for  the  future, 
to  be  under  no  apprehension,  if  I  should  see  the  whole 
galaxy  at  sixes  and  sevens,  either  in  rhetoric  or  bunting. 

As  I  went  the  rounds  of  the  gay  and  crowded  streets,  I 
could  not  help  noting  the  resemblance  between  what  I  saw 
and  the  aspect  of  a  certain  good  city  of  pur  own,  on  the 
memorable  days  of  the  "  Great  Conventions"  of  1840  and 
1844.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  strange  beautiful  costumes, 
and  the  unaccustomed  language,  I  might  have  listened  at 
every  corner  for  the  voice  of  some  enthusiastic  patriot,  bid- 
ding "  Clear  the  track  for  old  Kentucky  !"  In  the  stead, 
however,  of  our  well-remembered  friend,  "that  same  old  coon," 
so  conspicuous  on  banner  and  transparency  upon  the  festivals 
alluded  to,  there  hung  high  over  the  chief  street  of  Puerto 
Real,  a  snowy  flag,  rustling  among  the  armorial  bearings  of 
ancient  empires.  Upon  its  ample  folds,  depicted  to  the  life, 
was  the  gigantic  effigy  of — a  flea  !  Grand  and  dismal  was 
he  in  his  proportions  and  expression,  and  but  for  the  bold 
inscription  beneath  him — "  Microscopic  solar  :  la  pidga" — 
he  might  have  been  taken  for  the  megalosaurus,  or  some 
other  antediluvian  monster,  or  the  universal  father  of  all 
lobsters.  Below  the  flag,  a  placard  informed  the  "  publico 
ilustrado"  (the  enlightened  public)  that  by  the  aid  of  the 
wonderful  microscope  within,  many  strange  insects  and  ani- 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  155 

mals,  and  "  especially  the  flea,"  loomed  large  and  terrible  ! 
A  queer  notion  it  was,  that  any  body  needed  a  microscope  in 
Spain,  to  enlarge  his  ideas  of  the  natural  history  of  fleas  ! 
As  if  one  did  not  know  enough  of  them,  as  pests,  without 
dreaming  of  them  as  night-mares  !  I  did  not  visit  the 
microscope,  though  all  the  world  did. 

Nor  did  I  pay  my  respects  to  the  wonderful  giant,  seven 
feet  and  a  great  many  inches  high,  who,  like  all  the  giants 
at  home,  "  to  the  most  startling  size,  added  the  most  grace- 
ful proportions."  The  cattle  and  horses  interested  me  more 
than  ogres,  and  having  heard  that  many  of  the  former 
would  be  on  the  ground,  I  went  about  to  look  for  them.  It 
was  Sunday,  however,  and  the  first  day,  therefore  nothing 
was  on  show,  and  I  afterward  learned  that  the  Puerto  Real 
Fair,  unlike  the  most  of  those  in  Spain,  is  rather  a  merry- 
making, usually,  than  a  place  of  real  traffic.  In  the  lack 
of  buyers  and  selfers,  however,  there  were  people  in  abund- 
ance. Pretty  faces  peeped  out  upon  you,  from  behind  the 
grating  of  every  deep,  low  window  that  you  passed.  The 
noisy  church-bell  turned  round  and  round,  and  rattled  for  near 
an  hour,  and  many  a  graceful  form  enchanted  you  as  you 
stood  near  the  thoroughfare,  and  saw  the  bright-eyed  creat- 
ures going  and  returning.  Then  the  men  !  what  splendid 
fellows  some  of  them  were  !  the  finest  specimens  of  vigorous, 
athletic,  lusty  manhood  !  Few  of  them  were  in  full  majo 
dress,  so  far  as  their  unmentionables  were  concerned,  the 
loose  breeches  of  the  majo  del  monte,  or  the  common  trowsers 
being  in  most  request.  But  in  jackets— —chaqueticas,  as  they 
affectionately  call  them — there  was  a  perfect  revel ;  from 
the  plain  roundabout,  loose  and  long,  to  the  tight,  short 
majo,  with  silver  buttons  and  rich  embroidery,  and  a  gay 
handkerchief  protruding  ostentatiously  from  each  pocket. 
By  far  the  greater  number  wore  the  calesera,  which  is 
large  and  heavy.  Some  had  it  over  the  majo  jacket,  for 
the  weather  was  fresh  and  windy  :  others  wore  it,  hussar- 
fashion,  upon  the  left  shoulder,  with  one  sleeve  under  the 


156  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

right  arm,  as  only  an  Andalusian  could  fling  it.  Then 
what  varieties  of  trimmings  there  were,  which  only  a  wo- 
man or  a  tailor  could  remember  or  describe  ;  from  the  full- 
blown glories  of  the  calesera,  with  red  and  white  cloth 
facings,  collar,  and  elbows,  and  the  gorgeous  flower-pot  upon 
the  back,  up  through  all  shades  of  velvet  to  the  most  sub- 
dued rich  olive,  the  pervading  color  of  the  cloth  !  What 
treasures  of  filagree  buttons,  and  silk  and  velvet  lacings, 
with  silver  points  !  What  bright  fantastic  vests  !  What 
embroideries  !  What  many-colored,  party-colored  parapher- 
nalia, in  both  good  taste  and  bad  ! 

Of  articles  for  serious  traffic  there  were,  as  I  have  said, 
not  many,  but  yet  buyers  and  sellers  were  not  idle.  One 
Plaza  was  filled  with  toy-booths.  All  the  streets  were  lined 
with  the  stalls  of  orchata  and  lemonade  dealers.  Pea-nuts, 
and  dates,  cakes,  candies,  and  filberts,  were  at  every  corner, 
and  hawked  about  in  sacks  made  of  rushes,  by  all  man- 
ner of  bedraggled  boys.  Here  went  a  fellow,  screaming, 
" Bocas  frescas  y  ricas!  bocas  de  la  islaf"  These  were 
neither  more  nor  less  than  crab-claws,  from  the  Island  of 
Leon.  The  poor  animals  are  caught,  their  claws  are  broken 
off  at  the  first  joint,  and  they  are  then  thrown  back  into  the 
water,  to  get  along  as  cats  are  supposed  to  manage,  without 
claws,  in  a  certain  place  that  shall  be  nameless.  For  those 
who  liked  the  whole  crab  better  than  the  boca,  another  huckster 
had  his  ready  basket ;  while  another  attempted  still  further  to 
stimulate  your  appetite,  by  praising  and  pointing  to  his  piles 
of  shrimp  and  craw-fish,  and  a  commodity  looking  amazingly 
like  snails.  Fried  fish,  reeking  hot,  smoked  along  the  side- 
walks, and  were  dusted  delightfully  by  the  accommodating 
breeze.  Oysters  were  scraped  from  their  shells,  for  your 
temptation,  as  you  passed,  and  were  poked  under  your  nose  in- 
vitingly, between  rusty  knife-blades  and  dirty  fingers.  Gipsies, 
dark  as  Indians,  and  carrying  babies  of  course,  were  at  hand, 
to  tell  your  fortune.  "JBarato,  baratisimo!  zenorita!"  said 
a  weird  sister  to  a  young  lady,  as  I  passed ;  "Cheap  !  very 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  157 

cheap  !" — and,  no  doubt,  famous  luck,  and  warranted  !  A 
better  purchase  than  the  gipsy's  prophecy,  and  cheaper,  too, 
perhaps,  was  the  cool  glass  of  sparkling  water  you  received 
from  the  busy  aguador.  "  Agua  fresco, !  como  la  nieve  /" 
(cold  as  snow!)  he  cried,  in  hoarse  Galician  accent.  .  It 
would  take  him  long  to  get  rich,  you  would  imagine,  at  the 
rate  of  half  a  cent  a  customer,  and  obliged  to  throw  a  pinch 
or  two  of  appetizing  anise  seed  into  his  bargain  !  And  yet, 
better  do  that  than  beg. 

Beggars  there  were,  by  scores,  among  the  crowd.  Blind 
men  asked  a  limosnita,  for  "a  poor  fellow  who  couldn't  see 
to  earn  it."  Wretched  women,  hooded,  hungry,  and  impor- 
tunate, clung  to  you  and  implored  your  pity,  for  God's  love 
and  the  blessing  of  "Maria  zantizima!"  Pinched  and 
ragged  little  boys,  made  prematurely  cunning  by  starvation, 
would  hold  their  palms  up  to  you,  with  a  few  coppers,  and 
tell  you  that  they  needed  but  one  more,  to  buy  them  bread. 
Cripples  made  ostentation  of  their  deformity,  and  loathsome, 
leper-looking  creatures  challenged  your  bounty  and  disgust, 
exhibiting  their  sores.  I  remember  a  poor  wretch,  whose 
shrunken,  palsied  leg  was  his  whole  capital.  He  kept  it 
naked,  and  ever  and  anon  he  would  prop  it  with  a  cane, 
and  take  toll  from  the  passers-by.  Then,  shifting  his  quar- 
ters to  the  very  center  of  the  largest  crowd  that  he  could 
find,  he  would  balance  himself  upon  a  crutch  and  his  sound 
limb,  and  turning  on  one  heel  with  wonderful  agility,  he 
would  describe  circle  after  circle  with  the  naked  leg,  flapping 
it  around  to  every  comer. 

These  things,  and  many  like  them,  occupied  me  until  the 
afternoon  was  beginning  to  advance,  when,  tired  of  majos, 
banners,  beggars,  and  the  rest,  I  turned  my  footsteps  back 
toward  the  ferry.  There  were  "bull-feasts"  assigned  for  the 
entertainment  of  the  public,  later  in  the  day,  but  they  were 
only  what  they  call  novillos — bull-calves  to  be  baited,  not 
full-grown  heroes  to  be  slain.  These  did  not  tempt  me  to 
risk  the  loss  of  a  tide,  and  a  consequent  delay  till  midnight, 


158  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

at  Puerto  Real,  when  I  had  the  ramparts  and  Alameda  of 
Cadiz,  to  finish  the  pleasant  day.  I  made  the  best  of  rny 
way,  therefore,  home,  and  was  repaid  by  the  beauty  of  a 
sunset,  which  Naples  could  scarcely  have  surpassed.  At  the 
suggestion  of  one  of  my  friends,  I  then  went  to  the  Balon 
a  little  theater  which  promised  an  attractive  performance. 
It  was  a  sans  fapon  sort  of  a  place,  and  not  over  genteel,  I 
suppose,  for  I  saw  one  of  the  fairer  sex,  with  an  infant  in 
arms,  in  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  boxes,  and  I  will  certify 
that  she  did  not  permit  the  presence  of  company  to  interfere, 
in  any  way,  with  the  most  thorough  and  elaborate  perform- 
ance of  her  maternal  duties.  The  men,  on  the  other  hand, 
puffed  their  cigars  at  their  sweet  will,  so  that  there  was,  in 
the  appearance  of  things,  as  I  entered,  a  delicate  blending 
of  the  smoke-house  and  nursery. 

I  went  into  the  pit,  where  I  took  what  they  called  a 
luneta,  which  was,  in  plain  English,  a  seat  on  a  bench,  but 
numbered,  so  that,  at  any  time  during  the  evening,  I  could 
assert  my  title  to  it,  by  showing  my  ticket.  The  sainete 
was  capital,  full  of  the  peculiar  humor  of  the  Spanish  farce, 
and  performed  with  very  considerable  comic  power.  But 
the  charm  of  the  evening  was  the  dancing,  in  which  the 
Balon  had  the  reputation  of  surpassing  the  principal  theater. 
We  had  a  superb  bolero  by  four  couples,  and  then  the  fas- 
cinating ole,  by  a  fair  dancer  of  some  fame,  who  was  rap- 
turously encored.  I  saw  this  voluptuous  dance  under  more 
favorable  circumstances  at  Seville,  where  the  reader,  if  it  so 
please  him,  shall  hear  more  of  it.  Ford  says  that  the 
Venus  Callipyge,  in  the  Neapolitan  Museum,  is  the  un- 
doubted representation  of  a  Cadiz  dancing-girl.  It  would 
be  rash  to  dispute  the  fact,  in  the  face  of  Martial  and  Pe- 
tronius  Arbiter,  who  are  summoned  into  court  to  prove  it ; 
but  nowadays,  so  far  as  I  saw,  there  is  a  little  more  con- 
science and  a  good  deal  more  drapery,  than  when  Callipyge 
trod  the  boards.  And  yet,  even  in  the  plain  way  (com- 
pared to  the  gymnastics  of  the  Venus)  in  which  the  ole  is 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  159 

managed  now,  if  the  Shakers  would  make  it  a  part  of  their 
ceremonial,  and  would  not  hold  it  sinful  to  shake  the  dust 
of  worldliness  from  off  their  feet  to  the  sound  of  castanets, 
I  would  engage  that  it  would  draw  proselytes  enough  to 
Lebanon,  to  cultivate  bone-set  for  the  continent. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Decay  of  Cadiz — Manufactures  and  Trade — Free-trade  Newspaper 
— Agriculture — Grain  and  Flour — Journey  to  Seville — The  Gua- 
dalquivir— Herdsmen  and  their  Mares — Approach  to  Seville — 
Gardens  and  Groves — Fonda  de  la  Reyna — Don  Jos6  and  the 
Widow — The  Maiden's  Balcony. 

EVERY  one  says,  and  no  doubt  it  is  true,  that  Cadiz, 
commercially  considered,  is  traveling  down  hill,  as  it  has 
been  for  many  years.  This  might  be  naturally  enough  ac- 
counted for,  by  the  mere  decay  of  the  national  commerce, 
Cadiz  being  dependent  almost  entirely  upon  trade.  The 
decay  alluded  to,  however,  goes  farther.  Port  St.  Mary's, 
and  the  other  towns  upon  the  bay,  being  more  advanta- 
geously situated  for  the  purposes  of  the  wine  trade,  are  now 
reclaiming,  by  their  natural  facilities,  the  commerce  which 
was  once  drawn  to  Cadiz,  by  superior  capital  and  more  en- 
larged and  active  enterprise.  Even  Malaga,  though  farther 
removed,  has  borne  its  part  in  the  work.  An  intelligent 
English  merchant,  my  fellow-traveler  in  the  Heredia,  who 
had  resided  twenty  years  in  Malaga,  told  me,  that,  within 
his  time,  the  amount  of  exports  from  that  city  had  been 
doubled,  and  that  it  was  still  steadily  increasing.  Of  course, 
a  portion  of  this  gain  has  been  the  loss  of  Cadiz. 

The  Gaditanos,  however,  have  set  themselves  to  work, 
to  arrest  the  evil,  if  possible,  or,  rather,  to  counteract  it. 
They  have  established  large  and  fine  factories,  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  accounts  they  gave  me,  were  busy  and  pros- 
perous. On  board  the  steamer,  as  I  went  to  Puerto  Real, 
I  met  a  very  well-informed  young  gentleman,  the  editor  of 
the  Propagador,  the  free-trade  journal  of  Cadiz.  He  told 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  161 

me  that,  in  order  to  show  the  preposterousness  of  the  Cata- 
lonian  tariff  of  seventy-five  per  cent  upon  certain  fabrics, 
the  advocates  of  a  more  reasonable  system  had  but  recently 
forwarded  to  Madrid,  samples  of  the  same  fabrics,  manufac- 
tured at  Cadiz.  These,  they  accompanied  with  the  corre- 
sponding British  article,  submitting  their  comparative  excel- 
lence to  the  judgment  of  the  government,  and  furnishing,  at 
the  same  time,  a  particular  and  detailed  statement  of  the 
outlay  upon  the  home  fabric,  so  as  to  show  that,  with  a  pro- 
tection of  twenty -five  per  cent.,  they  could  support  a  profit- 
able and  successful  competition. 

The  object  of  the  free-traders,  as  the  Propagador  informed 
me,  would  be  entirely  gratified  by  the  establishment  of  a 
rational  system  of  protective  duties,  in  lieu  of  the  prohibitive 
absurdities,  to  which  I  have,  elsewhere,  alluded.  They  were 
clamoring  for  free-trade,  he  said,  in  order  to  get  something 
less,  with  which  they  would  be  very  well  satisfied.  I  could 
not  help  suggesting,  that  where  there  was  so  much  prejudice 
to  be  overcome,  as  well  as  so  much  comfortably  established 
monopoly,  it  seemed  rather  more  rational  to  seek  what 
they  wanted,  little  by  little  and  quietly,  than  to  frighten  the 
fools  by  wild  innovation,  and  set  the  knaves  on  their  guard. 

My  companion  spoke,  very  sensibly,  in  regard  to  the  par- 
amount propriety  of  developing  the  agriculture  of  Spain, 
which  he  considered  its  great  interest.  The  grain  growers 
of  Andalusia,  he  said,  who  were  few,  and  owned,  each,  im- 
mense tracts  of  land,  were  very  jealous  of  the  free  trade  doc- 
trine, supposing  that  its  adoption  would  bring  foreign  grain 
into  competition  with  theirs,  but  forgetting,  how  impossible 
it  was,  that  with  such  a  soil  as  theirs,  competition  could  be 
formidable.  The  only  result,  he  argued,  would  be  an  im- 
provement in  the  appliances  of  cultivation  and  transportation 
— matters  which  seemed  mountains  to  the  good  people,  but 
which  the  necessities  of  competition  would  soon  level  to  mole- 
hills. He  spoke,  with  great  confidence,  of  the  agricultural 
capabilities  of  the  Castiles  and  Leon,  which,  he  said,  were 


162  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

the  chief  grain  growing  provinces,  and  needed  only  some  of 
the  improvements  of  modern  science,  with  a  few  more  roads, 
to  be  without  rivals  in  the  grain  market.  The  Asturias  and 
Galicia,  by  their  immense  coal  beds  and  abundant  water 
power,  he  deemed  especially  marked  out  by  nature  for  man- 
ufacturing districts.  Catalonia,  he  said,  was  almost  without 
such  natural  advantages,  and  would  insist,  notwithstanding, 
upon  manufacturing,  though  all  the  rest  of  the  kingdom 
should  be  plundered  by  custom-houses  and  smugglers,  to  make 
her  holy  day. 

How  far  the  view  which  the  editor  took  was  tinctured  by 
his  prejudices  in  regard  to  poor,  persecuted  Catalonia,  I  will 
not  stop  to  inquire,  but  he  certainly  did  no  more  than  justice 
to  the  extreme  value  of  the  agricultural  interests  of  Spain. 
The  wheat  of  the  Peninsula  is  pronounced  by  Loudon,  and 
known  by  every  one  who  has  eaten  Spanish  bread,  to  be  the 
finest  in  the  world.  The  Castiles  and  Leon,  though  the 
most  productive,  probably,  are  still  but  a  part  of  the  immense 
district  of  the  Peninsula  which  is  devoted  to  the  cultivation 
of  cereal  products.  Aragon,  Estremadura,  the  greater  part 
of  Catalonia,  Upper  Andalusia,  and  part  of  Navarre,  are 
mentioned  by  Widdrington  as  constituting  a  region,  through 
whose  whole  extent  "  wheat  is  produced  in  quality  and  would 
be,  in  quantity,  if  properly  tilled,  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  that 
of  any  country  on  the  globe."  Whether  free-trade,  by  stim- 
ulating competition ;  or  a  properly  encouraged  system  of  man- 
ufactures, by  furnishing  a  home  market ;  would  be  the  wiser 
policy  for  the  development  of  this  great  mine  of  agricultural 
wealth,  is  a  question  for  the  sages,  and  not  for  a  scribbling 
land-louper.  Even  as  things  are,  the  quantity  of  flour  ex- 
ported by  Spain  to  her  own  colonies,  has  much  increased,  I 
learn,  of  recent  years.  It  seems  that,  hitherto,  the  mode  of 
packing,  and  even  the  inferior  wood  of  which  the  barrels  have 
been  made,  have  aided  the  defective  laws  in  hindering  its 
consumption.  Once  discovered,  such  accidents,  of  course,  can 
easily  be  remedied.  Graver  evils  are  of  slower  cure. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  163 

Monday,  May  3. — At  eleven,  we  were  all  on  board  the 
Ra]rido,  and  our  anchor  was  weighed,  punctually  at  the  hour 
appointed,  for  Seville.  The  Rapido,  though  provided  with 
English  engine  and  engineer,  was  a  Seville-built  steamer, 
and  did  very  great  credit  to  her  architect,  being  a  fine  vessel, 
and  fine-looking,  into  the  bargain.  I  particularly  admired 
some  very  pretty  pannel-painting  in  the  saloon,  representing 
Andalusian  customs,  with  views  of  Seville  and  its  environs, 
executed  in  a  highly  creditable  style  of  art.  The  wind  and 
waves  drove  me  to  the  cabin  and  my  accustomed  sea-sickness, 
almost  as  soon  as  we  were  off,  and  it  was  not  till  after  a 
wretched  hour  or  two,  that,  I  knew,  from  the  motion  of  the 
boat,  we  were  safe  in  the  Guadalquivir.  When  I  went  on 
deck  we  were  just  passing  the  town  of  San  Lucar,  a  desolate 
and  dilapidated  looking  place,  whose  good  wine,  however, 
needs  no  bush.  Soon  after,  we  stopped  to  take  passengers 
from  Bonanza,  where  a  stupendous  custom-house,  now  desert- 
ed, and  a  church,  built  but  a  few  years  ago  and  already  tum- 
bling down,  conveyed  a  rather  poor  idea  of  prosperity  and 
permanence.  Our  pilot,  contrary  to  the  fashion  on  the  west- 
ern waters  of  ihe  United  States,  turned  the  head  of  his  ves- 
sel down  stream,  as  the  passengers  were  rowed  out  to  us. 

The  journey,  from  Bonanza  to  Seville,  is  quiet  enough. 
Down  toward  the  mouth  of  the  river,  there  are  some  ranges 
of  low  pine-forest,  of  the  deepest  green.  One  upon  the  left 
bank,  and  of  very  great  extent,  belonged,  I  was  told,  to  some 
duke  or  other,  who  used  it  and  let  it  out  as  a  chase,  there 
being  abundance  of  wild  boars  and  other  game.  With  the 
exception  of  these  woodlands,  you  may  sail  up  to  Coria, 
near  seventeen  long  leagues,  without  seeing  any  thing  but 
marsh,  or  dead,  desert-looking  flats,  over  whose  solitary  places 
birds  of  prey  career  in  full  dominion.  Now  and  then,  you 
have  some  little  relief  to  your  sense  of  perfect  desolation,  as 
you  pass  a  herd  of  cattle  or  of  mares  at  pasture  ;  though  the 
lonely  herdsman,  as  he  sits  upon  his  horse  and  gazes  at  the 
steamer,  or  gallops  with  his  long-handled  goad  behind  his 


164  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

charge,  does  not  give  you  any  very  lively  notion  of  cheerful 
or  humanizing  life.  Occasionally  you  are  amused,  when 
the  drove  is  set  in  motion.  All  but  the  young  are  ham- 
pered, to  prevent  their  wandering  very  fast  or  far,  and  when 
the  herdsman  drives  them,  or  they  take  a  notion  to  be  off 
themselves,  it  makes  one  laugh  to  see  so  many  hundreds  of 
them,  moving,  in  their  ineffectual  attempts  to  gallop,  like  a 
drove  of  hobby-horses.  Up  about  Puebla,  which  is  some 
two  leagues  below  Coria,  the  country  begins  to  be  more 
varied,  and  to  show  signs  of  cultivation  ;  hills  and  gardens, 
orchards  and  orange-groves,  with  fields  of  fine  grain,  being  all 
about  you.  Still  farther  on,  when  you  reach  Gelbes,  you 
see  the  Giralda  of  Seville  rising  high  and  beautiful  in  the 
distance,  while  around  you  every  ridge  is  green  with  olive- 
trees.  Then,  between  beautiful  gardens  and  groves  of 
orange  and  lemon  trees,  whose  perfume  burdens  the  air,  you 
make  your  delightful  way  over  the  smooth  water  ;  passing, 
now  under  the  grim  old  walls  of  the  Moorish  castle  of  San 
Juan  de  Alfarache,  with  its  picturesque  village  on  the  bank  : 
now,  again,  enjoying  the  bright,  full  view  of  Seville,  which 
bursts  upon  you ;  and.  landing,  at  last,  at  the  very  foot  of  the 
beautiful  garden  and  walk  of  the  Delicias. 

On  the  very  steps  of  the  landing,  a  vile  carabinero  explores 
the  secrets  of  your  boxes,  but  you  are  soon  rid  of  him,  for 

"  Poderoso  caballero, 
Es  Don  Dinero  /" 

A  powerful  gentleman,  indeed,  is  my  Lord  Cash  !  and  cus- 
tom-houses do  him  reverence.  You  take  a  glimpse,  in  pass- 
ing, of  the  famous  Torre  del  oro — the  tower  of  gold,  of  which 
you  have  read  so  much ;  and  then  bribing  still  another  cara- 
binero,  at  the  city-gate,  to  let  you  in,  unrurnmaged,  you  make 
the  best  of  your  way  (if  you  are  well  advised)  to  that  excel- 
lent hostelry,  the  Fonda  de  la  Reyna,  No.  68  of  the  CaUe 
Jimio.  The  fat,  comfortable-looking  landlady,  who  receives 
you,  is  a  living  sign  that  good  cheer  abides  within  her  tents. 
Don  Jose,  who  ushers  you  to  your  chamber,  and  who  wears, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  165 

that  warm  afternoon,  a  black  sheep-skin  jacket  (which  is 
called  a  zamarro,  as  you  learn),  is  not  the  landlady's  hus- 
band, for  she  is  a  widow,  and  still  sorrows  for  the  departed, 
in  weariness  of  spirit  though  not  in  waste  of  flesh.  Don 
Jose  is  her  steward,  and  an  excellent  one,  no  doubt,  he  is  to 
her,  if  he  attends  to  her  affairs  one-half  so  well  as  you  will 
find  he  does  to  yours.  If,  "No.  5"  is  vacant,  seize  on  it  at 
once.  It  is  on  the  gallery  of  the  first  floor  above,  and  has 
a  window,  with  a  balcony,  upon  the  street,  just  opposite 
another  where  a  gentle  maiden  sits  (or  sate,  at  all  events, 
when  I  was  there),  plying  her  needle  briskly,  surrounded  by 
roses,  and  all  manner  of  sweet  flowers.  The  street  is  ten 
feet  wide,  perhaps,  and  the  balconies  project  somewhat,  so  that 
you  must  be  careful  what  you  whisper,  or  she  may  hear  it. 
When  house  affairs,  or  any  little  business  she  may  have, 
shall  call  her  from  her  bower,  you  can  look  inward  (I  do 
not  mean  into  your  heart — but)  into  the  patio  of  the  Fonda, 
where,  in  the  bright  and  cheerful  air,  and  among  vines  and 
blossoms  that  cluster  round  the  slender  Moorish  columns, 
Don  Jose's  gay  canaries  hold  their  concerts.  You  are  in 
Seville,  depend  on  it !  la  tierra  de  Maria  Zantizima !  You 
may  not  yet  have  seen,  perhaps,  "where  black-eyed  damsels 
dance  the  zambra,  under  every  orange  grove,"  as  the  old 
raven  hinted  to  Prince  Ahmed,  when  he  sought  an  object 
for  his  love  :  but  task  your  patience  yet  a  little — you  have 
been  in  Seville  but  an  hour !  Go  out,  then,  to  the  Cathe- 
dral, before  it  is  quite  dark,  and  wander,  as  I  did,  up  and 
down  the  solemn,  awful,  twilight  aisles.  There  will  be  still 
some  moments  left  to  stroll  in  the  Delicias;  and  then,  if  you 
are  weary  as  I  was,  get  you  beneath  the  wings  of  your 
mosquito-net,  and  you  may  dream,  if  you  are  fanciful,  of 
Moors  and  Christians,  rivers,  groves,  and  gardens.  If  you 
should  happen  to  forget  them  all,  as  I  did,  you  may  have 
pleasant  slumbers,  notwithstanding. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Seville — Domestic  Architecture — Moorish  Relics — House  of  Pilate — 
The  Alcazar  and  its  Gardens — English  Critics  and  Whitewash — 
Sir  John  Downie — Holyrood  and  Durham  Cathedral — The  Span- 
ish Kings — Peter  the  Cruel. 

THE  idea  which  I  have  already  attempted  to  give  of  the 
domestic  architecture  of  an  Andalusian  city,  may  serve  as 
well  for  Seville  as  any  other,  except  that,  there,  the  build- 
ings in  general,  are  finer  and  their  style  and  finish  are 
more  tasteful  and  thorough,  than  any  where  else  in  the 
province.  The  traces  of  the  Moors  too,  are  visible  upon  a 
larger  scale  than  you  will  see  out  of  Granada.  The  streets, 
with  a  few  exceptions,  are  narrow  and  crooked,  and  the 
houses  are  tall  and  of  inhospitable  exterior,  though,  when 
you  enter  their  marble  courts,  sheltered  by  thick  awnings 
from  the  heat  and  glare,  with  fountains  murmuring  and 
flowers  profusely  blooming,  you  would  scarcely  be  surprised 
were  some  Lindaraja  or  Zorayda  to  come  forth  and  welcome 
you,  as  wandering  princes  in  disguise  were  met  in  eastern 
story.  In  Seville,  the  custom  is  universal  of  migrating  to 
the  ground-floor,  when  the  warm  days  begin.  The  patio 
then  becomes  the  drawing-room,  and  the  awning  is  removed 
at  the  setting  of  the  sun,  so  that  when  the  tertulia  is  as- 
sembled, it  is  beneath  no  canopy  but  that  which  the  stars 
silver. 

I  have  no  doubt,  that  in  many  of  the  older  dwellings  (for 
houses  live  to  a  good  old  age  in  Spain)  fine  relics  of  Moorish 
art  will  be  discovered,  one  of  these  days.  In  a  private 
house — the  "  Casa  o  'Lea" — there  is  a  saloon  of  singular 
beauty,  in  its  form  and  proportions  and  the  exquisiteness  of 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  167. 

its  arabesques.  Until  within  a  few  years  back,  it  had  the 
appearance  of  an  ordinary  apartment.  Chance,  however, 
gave  some  of  its  hidden  ornaments  to  the  light,  and  an 
outer  coating  of  plaster  having  been  removed,  it  was  found 
to  be,  so  far  as  one  can  judge,  a  work  of  the  same  period 
with  some  of  the  finest  chambers  in  the  Alcazar.  Here  and 
there,  throughout  the  city,  similar  discoveries  have  been 
occasionally  made. 

The  Casa  de  Pilatos  (House  of  Pilate)  the  once  magnifi- 
cent mansion  of  the  Riberas,  is  remarkable  for  its  singular 
and  graceful  blending  of  Gothic  and  Saracenic  architecture. 
It  was  built,  as  the  inscription  on  the  portal  tells  us,  toward 
the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  when  the  arts  of  the 
Moslem  were  still  in  perfection  and  request.  Time,  neglect, 
and  whitewash  have  done  their  usual  work  upon  the  noble 
building,  and,  as  if  these  engines  of  destruction  were  not 
ruinous  enough,  the  revolutionists  of  1843  had  the  good 
taste  to  aid  them  with  a  few  bombs.  The  present  proprie- 
tor is  the  Duke  of  Medina-Celi,  who  is  reputed,  among  his 
countrymen,  to  be  no  wiser  than  he  should  be.  His  sad 
abandonment  of  such  a  monument  of  art  and  of  ancestral 
splendor,  goes,  certainly,  very  far  toward  establishing  the 
correctness  of  the  popular  judgment. 

It  appears  that,  in  the  days  when  this  palace  was  build- 
ing, Don  Fadrique  Enriquez  de  Ribera,  Adelantado  Mayor 
of  Andalusia,  was  a  pilgrim  to  the  Holy  Land.  Some  say 
that  he  brought  with  him  earth,  from  Palestine,  to  hallow 
the  foundations  of  his  mansion,  and  others,  that  he  gave  to 
it  the  name  it  bears,  in  memory  of  the  dwelling  of  Pilate, 
which  he  had  visited,  when  in  Jerusalem.  Certain  it  is, 
that  he  was  full  of  the  enthusiasm  of  his  pilgrimage,  for 
beneath  a  pious  inscription  on  the  gateway,  taken  from  the 
Psalms,*  and  commending  his  dwelling  to  the  shadow  of  the 

*  I  give  the  inscription  for  the  benefit  of  the  curious. 
"  Nisi  dominus  edificaverit  domum,  in  vanum  laborarent  qui  edificant 
cam.     Sub  umbra  alarum  tuarum  protege  nos." 


168  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

Almighty's  wings,  you  may  read,  in  the  center  of  a  maze  of 
crosses,  the  following  legend — 

"  4  dias  de  Agosto  1519,  entro  en  Hiermalem?\ 
(On  the  4th  of  August,  1519,  he  entered  into  Jerusalem.) 
Against  the  outer  wall,  close  by  the  entrance,  there  is  a 
large  crucifix.  This  is  the  beginning  of  the  "  estaciones,"  or 
stations,  commemorative  of  the  pauses  of  our  Saviour,  as  he 
bore  his  cross,  which  are  visited  with  so  much  devotion  by 
the  whole  population  during  the  ceremonies  of  Easter-week. 
Outside  the  city-walls,  as  you  go  eastward  toward  Alcala 
de  Guadaira,  you  pass  an  ancient  crucifix,  standing  beneath 
the  dome  of  a  small,  open  temple,  which  crowns  a  gentle 
mound,  or  Calvary.  It  is  called  la  Cruz  del  Campo,  and 
there  are  generally  some  peasants  kneeling  before  it.  That 
crucifix  is  the  last  of  the  stations  which  begin  at  the  House 
of  Pilate.  The  Ribera,  when  in  Jerusalem,  is  said  to  have 
measured  the  very  ground  over  which  Jesus  passed  to  cruci- 
fixion, and  to  have  laid  out  these  stations  in  accordance,  on 
his  return. 

The  Christian  memories  of  Palestine,  which  the  Adelan- 
tado  brought  home  with  him,  are  mostly  visible  upon  the 
outside  of  his  house.  Upon  the  inside,  he  seems  to  have  re- 
membered chiefly  its  Moslem  luxuries.  You  enter,  beneath 
a  noble  gateway,  crowned  with  a  fine  Gothic  balustrade  in 
stone,  and  passing  through  an  unimportant  court,  you  make 
your  way,  by  a  gallery  upon  the  right,  into  a  patio,  some 
sixty  feet  square,  surrounded  by  light  Moorish  columns 
of  white  marble,  over  which  spring  the  fairiest  arches  you 
have  ever  seen,  of  varied  span  and  exquisite  detail.  The 
gallery  which  runs  round  it,  is  closed,  upon  three  sides,  by 

(Then  follows) 

Est a  caza  mandaron  hazer  los  ylustres  Senores,  Don  Padro  Henriqttez, 
JLdelantado  Mayor  de  Andaluzia  y  Dona  Catalina  de  Ribera  su 
vnuger^  y  esta  portada  mando  hazer  su  hijo,  Don  Fadrique  Enriquez  de 
Ribera,  primero  Marques  de  Tariff  ansi  mesmo  Jldelantado.  Mento&e 
A.D.  1533. 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  169 

walls,  the  upper  parts  of  which,  to  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
ground,  are  a  labyrinth  of  the  most  intricately  beautiful  and 
finished  arabesques.  Beneath  these  delicate  pencilings  of 
the  Moor,  the  walls  are  covered  with  the  famous  azulejos, 
or  porcelain  tiles  of  Triana,  (the  suburb  of  Seville)  upon 
whose  brilliant  and  perfect  surface,  among  those  combina- 
tions of  mathematical  figures  which  pleased  the  Moors  so 
much,  you  note  the  arms  of  the  noble  families  of  Medina- 
Cell  and  Alcald.  The  chapel,  into  which*  you  enter  upon 
the  northern  side  of  the  patio,  is  strangely  and  fantastically 
beautiful,  from  the  union  it  presents  of  Saracenic  ornament 
with  Gothic  forms.  The  vaulted  ceiling  is  purely  Gothic, 
and  yet  clustered  with  a  wreath  of  arabesques,  and  the  walls 
have  tracery  all  over  them  which  the  .courts  of  the  Alham- 
bra  might  envy.  In  the  center  of  the  chapel  there  is  a  low 
column  of  red  marble,  to  typify  that  at  which  our  Lord  was 
scourged. 

The  superb  side-saloons,  upon  the  ground  floor,  are  deco- 
rated, like  the  rest  of  the  building,  with  azulejos  and  arab- 
esques, and  their  fine  ceilings  of  carved  wood,  here  and  there 
richly  gilded,  are  as  perfect  as  they  came  from  the  artist's 
hand.  All  about  the  courts,  and  in  the  garden  to  which  you 
pass  from  them,  there  are  ancient  statues  in  abundance,  some 
of  them  from  Italica,  others  from  the  collection  presented  by 
Pope  Pius  V.  to  Perafan  de  Ribera,  when  he  was  Viceroy 
of  Naples.  A  sad  time  they  have  had  of  it — to  judge  from 
appearances — these  relics  of  the  classic  past !  Here,  a  leg, 
there,  an  arm,  and  here  again  a  mutilated  torso,  is  preach- 
ing whole  volumes  of  the  "  sermons  in  stones."  Emperors, 
innocent  of  noses,  are  asleep  among  damaged  deities.  Pal- 
las belligera,  with  her  present  countenance,  would  be  cut,  in 
spite  of  lance  and  Gorgon's  head,  by  one  half  of  her  acquaint- 
ances on  Olympus.  Ceres  fructif era  might  thank  her  stars, 
if  she  were  permitted  to  pass  muster  as  a  market-woman. 
In  the  midst  of  such  good  company,  the  mother  and  the  wife 
of  Don  Fadrique  have  reason  for  the  resignation  which  marks 

H 


170  GLIMPSES   OF    SPAIN. 

their  battered  and  afflicted  visages,  as  they  kneel,  in  marble 
raiment  so  wretchedly  the  worse  for  wear  ! 

Leaving  the  antiques  and  the  now  rank,  neglected  gar- 
den that  blooms  and  flourishes  about  them,  you  go  up  to 
the  terrace,  by  a  splendid  stairway.  Proud  arches  and  a 
graceful  dome  or  two  rise  or  hang  over  it.  Along  its  sides, 
the  bright-colored  azulejos  are  gorgeous  with  blazonry  and 
fringed  with  frost-work.  You  are  not  admitted  to  the  upper 
chambers,  and  having  admired  the  columns  of  the  gallery 
and  breathed  the  fresh  air  upon  the  ample  terrace,  you  pay 
your  peseta  and  are  about  to  depart.  The  good  woman  who 
has  attended  you  begins  to  be  amiable  and  communicative, 
at  the  touch  of  the  silver,  and  takes  you  to  a  corner,  where 
you  may  see,  before  you  go,  what  Don  Fadrique  built,  in 
memory  of  the  porch  where  Peter  denied  his  Master.  You 
do  your  best  to  locate  the  cock  that  crew  on  the  occasion, 
and  you  turn  to  your  cicerone  for  particulars,  but  alas  !  she 
can  make  you  none  the  wiser — probably  because  she  is,  her- 
self, "  no  chicken,"  as  you  have  already  observed.  You  go 
your  ways,  therefore,  sadly  puzzled  as  to  the  possible  resem- 
blance between  the  fine  horse-shoe  arch  above  you,  and  the 
humble  place,  on  which  you  learned  at  school,  that 

"  Unusquisque  gallus  cantat." 

After  you  have  done  with  Pilate  and  his  mansion,  you 
will  hardly  consider  it  worth  while  to  be  particular  about 
the  repute  of  the  houses  you  visit,  and  you  will,  perhaps, 
extend  your  walk  to  the  Royal  Alcazar,  which  the  bad 
memory  of  Pedro  el  cruel  has  done  any  thing  but  conse- 
crate. If  it  be  one  of  the  fine  days  on  which  the  gardens 
are  opened,  as  they  often  are,  to  the  public,  and  you  go  in 
with  the  cheerful  crowd  which  the  occasion  never  fails  to 
assemble,  you  will  see  too  much  of  beauty  in  the  young  and 
living  specimens  about  you,  to  feel  interest  in  tracing  even 
the  fairest  dead  antiquity.  To  be  critical,  therefore,  you 
must  select  a  dies  non,  when  a  bilkte  from  the  proper 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  171 

authorities,  or  a  peseta  or  two,  judiciously  administered,  will 
give  you  the  freedom  of  hall  and  bower.  The  grounds, 
though  extensive  and  well  enough  kept,  are  in  what  Theo- 
phile  Gautier,  half  ashamed  of  it,  calls,  "le  vicux  gout 
fran^ais" — a  very  bad  sort  of  taste,  as  every  body  knows. 
The  luxuriant  orange-trees,  burdened  with  fruit  and  flowers, 
are  cropped  and  clipped  into  all  manner  of  unnatural  and 
formal  shapes.  The  beds  of  venerable  box  are  carved  into 
the  semblance  of  Bourbon  arms,  with  Austrian  eagles  and 
animals  of  those  heraldic  species  which  are  becoming  more 
and  more  a  "vieuz  gout,"  daily.  Even  the  jets  d'eau  are 
made  comparatively  insignificant,  by  their  minuteness :  giving 
their  moisture,  in  most  homoeopathic  sprinklings,  to  the  par- 
terres of  gorgeous  flowers  which  blossom  and  are  swe"et  be- 
neath the  spray.  Then  there  are  fish-ponds  and  shell  grot- 
toes ;  labyrinths,  and  rustic  temples,  in  abundance :  but  these 
you  can  see  almost  any  where,  and  you  therefore  hasten  on 
into  the  palace  itself,  which  is  a  thing  not  to  be  stumbled  on 
in  an  every-day  walk. 

I  doubt  very  much  whether  an  architectural  description 
of  the  Alcazar,  such  as  I  could  give,  would  contribute  much 
to  the  reader's  edification.  Patios  and  salones,  ajaracas  and 
almccdrabes,  though  excellent  things  to  look  at,  labor  under 
decided  disadvantages  in  print,  and  I  am  by  no  means  sure 
that  I  could  -do  them  the  justice  which  even  their  hard 
names  admit.  There  is  a  wide  difference  between  admiring 
what  is  beautiful  yourself,  and  so  portraying  it  that  others 
may  endorse  your  taste.  A  wise  man  was  the  learned  judge, 
who  refused  to  give  reasons  for  his  judgment.  "  The  opinion 
may  be  very  good,"  he  said,  "and  the  reasons  quite  the  con- 
trary !"  Suffice  it  to  say,  then  (as  the  newspapers  write),  that 
the  Alcazar,  like  all  the  buildings  that  I  saw,  in  Moorish 
style,  is  as  unattractive  without,  as  it  is  graceful,  and  beau- 
tiful within.  The  outer  court — a  sort  of  lirnbo  between 
earth  and  fairy-land — gives  you  no  notice  of  the  beauty  that 
bursts  on  you  as  you  enter  the  grand  patio  ;  and  even  this 


172  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

suggests  to  you,  but  dimly,  the  treasures  that  are  on  the  inside 
of  the  walls. 

Imagine  ranges  of  apartments,  opening  into  each  other 
and  on  marble  courts,  through  arch-ways  varying  in  shape 
and  span,  yet  graceful  as  the  rainbow,  all  of  them,  and  stoop- 
ing to  fair  columns,  as  light,  almost,  as  they !  Above  these 
arches,  and  around  them,  all  along  the  walls  of  these  en- 
chanted chambers,  imagine  the  finest  filagree  and  open  work, 
traced  upon  a  ground  of  blue  or  crimson,  and  seeming,  from 
its  delicate  beauty,  to  be  made  of  melting  frost,  fixed  in  its 
slenderest  moment.  Beneath  your  feet,  let  every  thing  be 
marble,  and  over  all,  hang  airy  domes  or  ceilings,  in  your 
fancy,  gorgeous  with  carved  and  inlaid  work,  and  gold. 
When  you  have  done  all  this,  be  seriously  persuaded  you 
have  done  but  half  enough,  and  then  imagine  some  rascally 
Alcaide,  turned  with  his  brush  and  whitewash  tub  into  your 
Aladdin's  palace,  leaving  unprofaned,  of  all  the  wonders  you 
have  fancied,  but  just  enough  to  show  you  how  polite  you 
are,  in  calling  him  Vandal  only. 

The  poor  Spaniards  have  been  sadly  berated  by  all  trav- 
elers, and  especially  the  English,  for  their  indifference  to  art, 
in  having  thus  defaced  one  of  its  fairest  monuments.  If  the 
facts  be,  as  I  heard  them  from  no  bad  authority,  John  Bull 
might  well  forego,  for  once,  his  Magna  Charta  privilege  of 
grumbling.  The  gallant  Scotsman,  Sir  John  Downie,  for  his 
bravery  in  leading  the  desperate  charges  on  the  bridge  of 
Triana,  when  Soult  was  driven  out  of  Seville,  was  made 
Alcaide  or  Royal  Lieutenant  of  the  Alcazar.  Before  his  time 
(in  1805  according  to  the  records),  the  sin  of  whitewash  had 
been  partially  committed  in  some  of  the  apartments,  but  the 
wholesale  iniquity,  so  much  lamented  now,  was  perpetrated 
during  his  administration.  The  legend  is,  that  it  was  done, 
to  get  the  palace  rid  of  bugs  !  There  is  a  Scotsman  told  of 
in  "Eothen,"  who  kept  up  Edinburgh  tastes  and  habits,  after 
he  had  turned  Turk  and  had  "  suffered  captivity,  conversion, 
Perhaps  Sir  John  was  equally  Caledonian 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  173 

in  his  notions,  and  remembered  the  superb  old  ceiling  of 
carved  oak  in  Holyrood,  which  they  have  whitewashed — to 
light  up  the  pictures  !  When  the  reader  visits  Auld  Reekie, 
he  will  know  the  apartment,  by  the  portrait  of  Lady  Rich 
that  hangs  in  it,  and  a  Duke  of  Newcastle  by  Vandyke. 
Perhaps  Sir  John,  on  his  way  down  to  London,  had  stepped 
into  old  Durham's  proud  Cathedral,  and  had  seen  the  effect 
of  whitewash  on  the  noble  clustering  columns  of  black  mar- 
ble, that  rise  about  the  choir  and  around  St.  Cuthbert's 
tomb.  Thay  have  scrubbed  and  oiled  some  of  them,  of  late, 
and  they  begin  to  look  as  black  as  ever,  but,  in  the  Alcaide's 
day  they  were,  no  doubt,  in  the  full  radiance  of  lime,  and  it 
may  be  that  their  beauty  pleased  him  !  Be  all  this  as  it 
may,  however,  the  work  of  restoration  was  going  on  steadily 
in  the  Alcazar.  They  were  scraping  the  whitewash  off,  as 
carefully  as  possible,  and  renewing  the  original  colors  with 
fidelity  and  taste.  One  room  was  already  nearly  finished, 
and  how  exquisite  it  was  !  Around  many  of  the  rest  the 
scaffolding  was  up,  and  the  workmen  were  steadily  indus- 
trious.* 

The  Alcazar  was  begun  by  the  Moors,  two  or  three  cen- 
turies before  Seville  was  reconquered  by  St.  Ferdinand.  To- 
ward the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century,  Pedro  the  Cruel 
enlarged  and  improved  it,  summoning  to  his  aid  the  most  ac- 
complished artists  from  the  neighboring  kingdom  of  Granada. 
The  fine  basin  beneath  the  palace  is  supposed  to  have  been 
made  by  his  order.  It  bears  the  name  of  the  "  bath  of  Maria 
de  Padilla,"  the  mistress  to  whom  he  sacrificed  his  wife,  poor 
Blanche  of  Bourbon,  and  his  brother,  Don  Fadrique,  the  Mas- 
ter of  Santiago.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  it  would  have 
consoled  these  unhappy  victims  to  have  known  the  immor- 
tality they  were  to  earn  in  ballad  and  romance ;  but  posterity, 

*  Since  the  last  French  Revolution,  the  restorations  of  the  Alcazar 
have  been  completed,  as  I  learn,  and  the  palace  is  now  occupied  by 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Montpensier,  who  have  added  the  splendor 
of  a  brilliant  court  to  the  other  attractions  o^"  Seville. 


174  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 


of  a  truth,  is  much  indebted  to  them  and  to  Don  Pedro,  for 
the  interesting  and  poetical  manner  in  which  their  exit  was 
accomplished.  The  traveler  is  still  shown  the  hall,  called  "  la 
sola  del  sacrificio,"  where  Don  Fadrique  is  reputed  to  have 
been  murdered.  It  adjoins  the  Hall  of  the  Ambassadors,  and 
there  is  a  slab  of  marble,  in  the  pavement,  which  bears  the 
relics  of  an  inscription,  in  the  characters  of  days  gone  by,  to- 
gether with  some  stains,  which  are  reputed  to  be  the  marks 
of  Don  Fadrique's  blood.  Unhappily,  white  marble,  in  that 
region,  has  red  spots,  often,  without  reference  to  Peter  the 
Cruel,  and  you  may,  if  you  please,  be  skeptical.  If  you  pre- 
fer being  of  great  faith,  you  will  find  inspiration  for  it  in  the 
old  ballads,  or  in  Mr.  Lockhart's  paraphrases,  or  in  the 
romance  by  Perez  de  Miranda,  called  the  "  Primojenito  de 
Albuquerque" 

The  alterations  made  in  the  palace,  down  to  the  time  of 
Charles  V.,  were  in  the  style  of  the  original  architecture  and 
embellishment,  but,  from  the  incoming  of  the  cold  blood  of 
Austria,  every  change  has  been  a  mutilation.  One  of  their 
majesties  signalized  himself,  by  running  a  screen  of  lath 
and  plaster  across  a  glorious  arch.  Another  cut  away  a 
wall  of  priceless  arabesques,  to  make  himself  a  window. 
Another  gave  himself  to  immortality,  by  building  chimneys 
and  fire-places,  with  appliances  suggestive  of  tea-kettles. 
Philip  II.  had  nothing  better  to  do,  than  to  destroy  the 
beauty  of  the  grand  Hall  of  the  Ambassadors,  by  having  the 
drum  of  the  dome  stuck  full  of  portraits  of  the  Christian  kings. 
"There,  may  be  seen"  (says  the  guide  Bailly,  in  a  little 
book  he  lent  me),  "  the  whole  dynasty  of  Spain  compressed 
into  little  squares,  from  the  earliest  king  down  to  the  hideous 
Ferdinand !"  Rare  Christians  indeed  they  were,  these 
pictured  monarchs,  who  have  left  such  traces  of  themselves ! 
Granting  them  the  advantage  of  all  orthodoxy,  as  to  the 
other  world,  one  Moor  was  worth  the  dome  full  of  them,  in 
his  notions  of  what  is  beautiful  in  this.  Look  out  from  the 
old  chambers  which  front  upon  the  garden,  and  which 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  175 

tradition  gives  to  Abdalasis,  son  of  Muza.  Does  there  linger 
in  your  memory  a  fairer  prospect,  than  the  plain  of  orange- 
groves  and  olives  and  ripe  bending  grain,  through  which 
the  gentle  river  ripples,  as  of  old,  upon  its  way  ?  On  any 
of  the  sultry  days  which  Seville  has  in  plenty,  go  down  to 
one  of  the  fresh  marble  courts,  where  fountains  murmur  cool- 
ness, and  where  arches  spring  so  light  above  you,  that  they 
seem  to  lighten  even  the  burden  of  the  air !  Think  then  of 
the  Moor  that  built  them,  and  afterward  of  Charles  V.  and 
chimney-corners  !  I  confess  I  never  looked  up  at  the  gallery 
of  portraits,  without  remembering  the  famous  "  Oda  a 
Pluton,"  which  was  circulated  in  manuscript,  in  Cadiz, 
during  the  second  siege,  and  whose  author  has  never  been 
positively  known.  It  is  an  arraignment,  before  Pluto,  of 
the  whole  dynasty  of  Spain,  from  Ferdinand  and  Isabella 
down.  As  a  satire  and  a  poem,  it  is  inimitable,  of  its  kind. 
Its  spirit  may  be  understood,  from  the  concluding  line,  which 
hands  the  whole  blood-royal,  past  and  present,  over  to  all 
the  devils — 

"  Y  si  hay  demonios  aun,  que  se  los  lleven  /" 

And  yet  when  you  go  to  the  gorgeous  chapel  of  St. 
Ferdinand,  in  the  Cathedral — the  Chapel  of  the  Kings,  as 
it  is  often  called — you  will  read,  in  golden  letters,  on  the 
crimson  canopy  over  the  high  altar,  the  fashionable  text  so 
oft  perverted  by  royalty  and  its  flatterers,  "  Per  me,  reges 
regnant."  If  Providence  did  not,  now  and  then,  think  fit 
to  scourge  the  nations  rather  than  to  bless  them,  inscrutable 
indeed  would  be  the  ways  which  have  committed  the  destinies 
of  such  a  land,  to  the  keeping  of  such  majesties  as  Philip  V. 
of  happy  memory,  and  Charles  IV. — 

"  El  Borbon  de  los  Borbones  /" 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Improvements  at  Seville — Literature  and  the  Press — The  Bible — Mr. 
Borrow  and  the  Causes  of  his  Failure — Newspapers — American 
£f ews — General  Taylor  in  Seville — Scarcity  of  Bread — Bread  Riots 
— The  Cigar-girls — Andalusian  Character  illustrated — Dancing — 
The  Ole— The  Bell-ringer's  Daughter. 

THE  reader  is  not  to  suppose,  for  an  instant,  that  Seville 
is  a  mere  depository  of  Moorish  relics  and  monuments  of  eld ; 
for,  on  the  contrary,  its  men,  women,  and  children  are  as 
full  of  vitality  and  spirit  and  the  present  time,  as  if  they  had 
never  heard  of  hoar  antiquity.  Things  are  not,  of  course, 
with  the  proud  city,  as  in  the  days  of  her  greatness,  when 
the  Dominican  Mercado  wrote  of  her,  that  "  she  had  deal- 
ings with  all  the  world  of  Christendom,  yea,  even  of  Bar- 
bary."  Nevertheless  she  has  come  bravely  out  of  the  Slough 
of  Despond,  and  you  can  go  scarce  any  where  within  her 
walls,  without  falling  upon  signs  of  increasing  population, 
wealth,  and  industry.  There  are  several  new  manufacturing 
establishments,  of  recent  and  excellent  construction.  Im- 
provements in  the  comfortable  modern  arts  of  life  are  spring- 
ing into  daily  development  and  use.  New  dwellings,  of 
creditable  architecture,  meet  you  here  and  there  :  old  ones 
are  undergoing  improvement  and  extension.  Occasionally 
you  find  yourself  in  a  fine  new  public  square,  probably  the 
site  of  a  dismantled  convent :  at  other  times,  in  a  street 
which  they  are  widening,  remodeling,  and  rebuilding.  The 
shops  in  the  fashionable  parts  of  the  city  are  elegant  and 
extensive,  some  of  them  ;  and  you  can  supply  yourself,  to 
your  satisfaction,  with  the  latest  productions  of  the  British 
loom,  or  the  most  exquisite  nouveautes  de  Paris — smuggled, 
of  course  !  The  booksellers  are  very  well  provided  with 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  177 

the  national  classics  and  translations  of  the  standard  works 
of  other  countries.  The  habit  of  publishing  books,  in  num- 
bers, now  so  prevalent  with  us,  has  become  popular  in  Spain 
also.  So  convenient  a  medium,  of  course,  deluges  the  com- 
munity with  trash,  and  particularly  with  translations  of  the 
French  novels,  so  popular  with  a  certain  class  of  readers  ; 
but  I  was  gratified  to  find  that  the  Spanish  publishers  had 
the  good  taste  to  avail  themselves  of  it,  for  the  promulgation 
of  the  best  portions  of  their  own  literature  also. 

Among  the  many  books  in  the  course  of  periodical  publi- 
cation, it  will  surprise  the  readers  of  Mr.  Borrow  to  know, 
that  the  Bible  was  one  of  the  most  prominent.  At  every 
bookstore  you  might  have  seen  it  advertised,  in  the  most 
flaming  letters,  at  rates  to  suit  purchasers  ;  and  there  was 
especially  placarded,  a  fine  edition  called  the  "  Biblia  pin- 
tor  esca"  or  illustrated  Bible,  after  the  fashion  of  the  beau- 
tiful work  published  by  the  Harpers  in  this  country.  To  be 
sure,  it  was,  in  all  probability,  the  translation  from  the 
Vulgate,  which  Mr.  Borrow  would  consider  no  Bible  at  all : 
but,  inasmuch  as  the  whole  Spanish  nation  happen  to  differ 
with  him  in  that  particular,  it  seems  but  fair  to  allow  them 
the  privilege  of  reading  their  own  version,  instead  of  hunting 
up  the  more  orthodox  copies,  which  he  dropped  on  the  high- 
ways, and  in  the  dens  of  the  gipsy  horse-thieves.  I  may  as 
well  say,  here,  that  unless  the  portions  of  Spain  I  visited 
have  changed  prodigiously  since  Mr.  Borrow's  missionary 
excursions,  there  is  too  much  room  for  ascribing  to  that 
graphic  and  entertaining  traveler,  the  "  Munchausenish  ten- 
dencies," which  Blackwood  supposes  him  to  possess.  Ac- 
cording to  the  testimony  of  Captain  Widdrington,  who  is  a 
witness  both  impartial  and  intelligent,  the  whole  enterprise, 
in  which  Mr.  Borrow  embarked,  fell  completely  through, 
and  altogether  from  the  fact  that  "  nothing  was  ever  con- 
ducted, in  a  manner  more  likely  to  insure  its  certain  and 
inevitable  failure."  By  the  Spanish  laws,  both  civil  and 
ecclesiastical,  at  the  time  of  Mr.  Borrow's  mission,  it  was 

H* 


178  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

not  the  printing  and  distribution  of  the  Bible  that  was  pro- 
hibited, but  of  the  Bible  without  the  Apocrypha  and  anno- 
tations. Now,  whatever  may  be  the  opinions  of  Protestants 
in  regard  to  the  utility  or  the  canonical  value  of  the  Apoc- 
ryphal books,  to  have  published  them,  with  the  rest  of  the 
Scriptures,  would  seem  (even  if  the  Spanish  laws  had 
been  silent  on  the  subject)  to  have  been  clearly  required,  by 
the  very  Bible  Society  principle,  which  gives  the  whole  of 
the  Sacred  Writings  to  the  reader,  that  he  may  examine, 
ponder,  and  judge  for  himself.  Be  that  as  it  may,  however — 
to  commence  a  religious  enterprise  by  violating  the  law,  and 
to  determine  that  he  would  circulate  his  own  Bible  or  none — 
would  seem  to  have  savored,  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Borrow, 
rather  more  of  the  spirit  of  propagandisrn,  than  of  an  earnest 
desire  to  give  the  word  of  God  to  the  people.  The  result 
was  a  natural  one.  The  missionary  arrayed  against  himself, 
at  the  outset,  both  the  clergy  and  the  government,  instead 
of  seeking  the  co-operation  which  Captain  Widdrington 
assures  us*  would  have  been  gladly  given,  under  other  cir- 
cumstances. To  so  impolitic  a  commencement,  the  associa- 
tion of  Mr.  Borrow,  principally,  with  the  gipsies — the  very 
fcex  populi  in  Spain — and  his  constant  and  peculiarly 
British  defiance  of  all  the  manners,  laws,  and  customs  that 
contravened  his  will,  certainly  gave  no  favorable  direc- 
tion. The  result  was,  what  he  has  himself  admitted,  a 
complete  and  entire  failure.  Judging  from  his  books,  how- 
ever, one  would  suppose  that  he  had  shaken  the  whole 
Peninsula  with  a  sort  of  apostolical  earthquake.  Captain 
Widdrington  says,  on  the  contrary,  what  I  found  myself 
was  the  case,  that  "  excepting  the  authorities,  with  whom 
Mr.  Borrow' s  operations  brought  him  in  contact,  hardly  any 
Spaniard  I  mentioned  the  subject  to,  had  ever  heard  either 
of  the  expedition  or  the  individual."  I  saw  his  name  in 
large  letters  and  in  Latin,  on  the  visitor's  book  at  the 
Alhambra,  and  I  had  from  Bailly.  the  very  intelligent 
*  Spain  and  the  Spaniards,  304,  306. 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  179 

guide  at  Seville,  a  description  of  some  of  his  gipsy-adventures, 
and  of  the  very  summary  manner  in  which  his  Rommany 
literature,  or  a  part  of  it,  was  gotten  together.  Else- 
where, if  I  heard  of  him  and  what  he  calls  his  "  buffeting," 
it  was  in  connection  with  the  homely  proverb  which  is 
generally  applied  to  those  who  meddle  with  what  does 
not  concern  them — "  Cuidados  ajenos  mataron  al  asno  /" 
(Other  people's  troubles  slew  the  donkey  !)  On  the  whole, 
I  do  not  know  whether  Christopher  North's  abridgment  of 
what  is  to  be  said  of  him,  does  not  furnish  the  best  con- 
clusion to  this  little  episode.  "  Notwithstanding  his  mis- 
sionary avocations  and  Munchausenish  tendencies,  we  have 
a  sneaking  kindness  for  friend  Borrow,  having  collected  from 
his  writings,  that  he  is  a  fellow  of  considerable  pluck  and 
energy,  of  adventurous  spirit,  with  a  sharp  eye  for  a  good 
horse,  and  who  would,  no  doubt,  have  made  an  excellent 
dragoon,  had  it  pleased  God  to  call  him  to  that  way  of 
life." 

Among  the  cries  of  a  Spanish  town,  the  last,  perhaps, 
that  a  traveler  expects  to  hear,  is  that  of  a  newsman  ;  and 
yet,  strange  to  say,  it  was  as  regular  in  Seville,  while  I  was 
there,  as  any  other  of  the  ten  thousand  noises  that  were 
perpetually  dinning  in  my  ears.  All  about  the  streets,  and 
in  the  public  places,  the  paper-carriers  went  bawling  the 
contents,  real  or  imaginary,  of  their  respective  sheets  :  and 
I  well  remember  that  the  most  vociferous  of  them  all  was 
a  poor  fellow  who  passed  the  Fonda,  at  the  same  hour,  every 
day,  and  who,  being  stone-blind,  must  have  relied  for  his 
story,  on  a  good  memory  or  a  happy  invention.  The  two 
journals  that  I  used  to  see  were  of  very  moderate  dimen- 
sions, but,  as  the  secret  of  advertising  had  not  yet  been  fully 
learned  in  Andalusia,  they  had  abundant  room  for  corre- 
spondence and  editorial  matter,  both  of  which  were  of  a  very- 
creditable  character.  The  perfect  freedom  which  the  press 
at  that  time  enjoyed,  had  elicited  a  great  deal  of  talent, 
and  the  journals  throughout  Spain,  so  far  as  I  had  opportu- 


180  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

nities  of  seeing  them,  were  conducted  by  clever,  independent, 
and  well-informed  persons.  In  their  strictures  upon  public 
men  and  measures,  they  were  as  unrestrained  as  our  own 
press  ;  in  good  taste  and  decorum,  they  were  much  above 
its  average.  The  Seville  papers  were  active  in  keeping 
their  readers  well  supplied  with  the  last  news,  though,  occa- 
sionally, they  used  to  serve  matters  up  with  those  innocent 
variations,  which  are  so  natural,  when  men  write  from  afar 
and  about  strange  things.  Thus,  in  the  Diario  of  May  14, 
1847,  in  aii  article  speculating  upon  the  probable  election  of 
General  Taylor  to  the  Presidency  of  the  United  States,  the 
argument  was  wound  up  by  the  following  suggestion  : — "  It 
is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  Generals  Fackson  and  Flamilton 
owed  their  election  to  the  Presidency  to  their  military  reputa- 
tion !"  I  treasured  it  up  carefully,  for  a  man  travels  to  learn. 
During  my  whole  stay  in  Spain,  the  Peninsula  was 
affected,  to  some  extent,  by  the  scarcity  of  bread-stuffs, 
which  was  then  distressing  Europe.  Occasional  outbreaks 
in  the  larger  cities  were  the  consequence  ;  and  I  had  the 
luck  to  be  in  the  midst  of  a  very  respectable  little  revolu- 
tion of  the  sort,  in  Seville,  which  began  on  the  7th  of  May. 
It  may  be  much  doubted  whether  there  was  any  real  scar- 
city in  Spain,  but  there  was  a  great  deal  of  engrossing  and 
speculation,  which  affected  the  quantity  of  food  in  the  mar- 
ket very  materially  ;  and  it  was,  besides,  believed  by  the 
populace,  that  the  members  of  the  municipal  councils  were 
availing  themselves  of  their  official  position,  to  make  money 
out  of  the  public  necessities.  This,  of  course,  was  sufficient 
to  give  a  very  excited  tone  to  the  public  mind,  and  the  ex- 
ceedingly absurd  measures  which  the  ayuntamientos  resorted 
to,  contributed  to  fan  the  flame.  Thus,  for  instance,  the 
city  of  Cordova  is  on  the  main  route,  from  the  grain-growing 
provinces  of  the  north  and  center,  to  the  south  of  Spain. 
All  commodities  taking  the  latter  direction  pass  through 
Cordova.  The  ayuntamiento  of  the  city  of  Abderrahrnan, 
convinced  of  the  necessity  of  every  man's  taking  care  of 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  181 

himself  in  this  wicked  world,  published  a  sapient  edict,  with 
two  clauses  :  first,  that  none  of  the  grain  or  flour  already 
in  the  city  should  be  removed  ;  and,  secondly,  that  all 
which  might  be  brought  in  should  be  kept  there  !  The 
consequence  was,  that  Cordova  was  actually  overflowing 
with  bread-stuffs,  at  the  lowest  rates,  while  Seville  and  the 
surrounding  country  were  in  a  state  of  semi-starvation. 

The  ayuntamiento  of  Seville,  scared  by  the  popular  clam- 
or, and  determined  to  be  as  wise  as  the  Cordovese  aldermen, 
passed  their  edict  too,  by  which  they  commanded  the  bakers 
of  Seville  and  Alcala  (which  is  a  town  of  bakers  a  few  miles 
from  the  city)  to  continue  baking  their  usual  quantity,  un- 
der severe  penalties,  and  to  furnish  it  in  the  market,  daily, 
at  the  prices  named  in  the  edict.  Unfortunately,  the  learned 
Thebans,  in  setting  the  price  on  bread,  forgot  to  set  it  like- 
wise on  grain,  so  that  the  poor  bakers  found  themselves,  the 
bright  morning  in  question,  compelled  by  law  to  sell  cheaply, 
while  the  law  did  not  protect  them  from  the  necessity  of  pay- 
ing dearly.  Thus  cornered,  and  probably  seeing  no  greater 
reason  why  they  should  be  compelled  to  give  alms  to  the 
public,  than  the  public  to  them,  the  bakers  of  Alcala  unani- 
mously shut  up  themselves  and  their  loaves  at  home,  and 
Seville  saw  nothing  of  either  in  the  accustomed  market-places. 
Of  course  there  was  a  hubbub  in  consequence.  People  sought 
bread  and  could  find  none,  for  the  shops  in  Seville  did  not 
provide  more  than  a  small  portion  of  the  amount  daily  con- 
sumed. I  saw,  that  morning,  on  the  table  at  the  Fonda,  that 
the  supply  and  the  variety  were  more  limited  than  usual,  but 
did  not  anticipate  the  row  that  was  brewing,  until  Bailly 
came  to  take  me  out  among  the  lions.  He  told  me  that 
there  would  probably  be  some  outbreak,  for  the  people  were 
in  want,  and  they  were  persuaded,  besides,  that  some  of  the 
ayuntamiento  had  a  hand  in  the  scarcity. 

It  was  about  half-past  nine  when  we  started  on  our  expe- 
dition. As  we  went  out,  we  saw  the  shop-keepers  closing 
doors  and  windows  hurriedly,  and  we  had  hardly  reached  the 


182  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

Cathedral,  when  an  immense  crowd  rushed  by,  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Cigar-factory  of  the  government,  which  was  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  or  thereabouts,  distant.  Like  prudent 
people,  we  let  them  go  their  ways,  and  proceeded  to  the  Co- 
lumbian Library,  but  the  librarian,  being  a  timid  man,  had 
wisely  determined  to  keep  himself  out  of  harm's  reach,  and 
the  doors  were  closed  accordingly.  We  then  went  into  the 
body  of  the  Cathedral,  but  had  scarcely  gone  half  way  down 
one  of  the  aisles,  when  we  saw  the  vergers  fastening  all  the 
doors,  in  great  haste  and  trepidation.  Not  caring  to  be  im- 
prisoned, even  in  the  sanctuary,  we  determined  to  go  to  the 
Museum  to  see  Murillo's  pictures,  but  our  way  thither  led 
through  the  Plaza  de  San  Francisco,  where  the  Hall  of  the 
Municipality  is — and  the  Plaza  itself  was  filled  with  troops 
under  arms,  while  crowds  of  men  and  women  were  rushing 
madly,  with  wild  screams,  through  all  the  streets  that  led 
to  it.  The  shops  and  houses  were  closed  in  every  direction, 
and,  for  the  moment,  the  only  place  of  safety  seemed  to  be 
within  our  own  doors.  We  returned  to  the  Fonda,  therefore, 
and  had  scarcely  entered  it,  when  Don  Francisco,  consider- 
ing that  the  safety  of  himself  and  the  fat  widow,  with  their 
guests  and  canaries,  required  it,  commanded  his  doors  to  be 
closed  and  barred,  so  that  no  man  might  enter  without  sum- 
mons. The  window  of  my  apartment  being  on  the  calle  Ji- 
mio,  which  enters  the  Plaza  not  far  off,  I  had  convenient 
opportunity  to  hear  the  sounds  of  war,  and  learn  the  partic- 
ulars from  passers  by.  There  then,  I  entrenched  myself,  for 
the  time  being. 

With  capital  generalship,  the  mob  had  driven  in  the 
guards  at  the  Cigar-factory,  and  had  let  out  the  cigarreras, 
the  women  employed  there,  to  the  number  of  three  or  four 
thousand.  Of  course,  in  the  tumult,  there  was  a  general  ap- 
propriation and  distribution  of  the  queen's  royal  tobacco,  and 
thus,  fortified  with  the  weed  and  its  fair  ministers,  the  out- 
laws returned  towards  the  Plaza.  The  women  led  the  van ; 
not  because  the  men  were  particularly  afraid  of  the  position, 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  183 

but  because  it  was  pretty  well  understood  that  the  soldiery 
were  too  gallant  to  fire  on  their  sweethearts.  Each  of  the 
daughters  of  Bellona  had  her  skirts  full  of  stones.  The  men, 
too,  carried  large  supplies  of  missiles  in  the  embozos  of  their 
cloaks,  and  thus,  in  masculine  and  feminine  commingling,  they 
made  their  descent  on  the  guards  in  double  quick  time,  shout- 
ing Viva  el  capitan  jeneral!  Muera  el  jefe  politico  !  Pan 
a  dos  reales  !  (Long  live  the  captain  general !  Death  to 
the  political  chief!  Bread  at  two  reals  !) 

A  hard  time  it  was  for  the  soldiers  and  the  Town-hall, 
and  a  precious  collection  was  soon  to  be  seen  of  broken  heads 
and  windows  !  Presently,  a  random  shot  or  two  were  heard, 
and  then  came  a  sharp  volley,  followed  by  shrieking  and 
shouting.  Now,  a  rapid  charge  would  force  the  crowd  up 
through  a  narrow  street,  and  then,  a  soldier,  here  and  there, 
would  tumble,  ignominiously,  beneath  a  flower-pot  from  some 
rebellious  balcony.  The  jefe  politico,  who  seemed  to  be 
especially  obnoxious,  managed  to  have  his  dignified  crown 
cracked  among  the  foremost,  and  being  thus  demonstratively 
satisfied  that  the  civil  authorities  were  but  a  poor  reliance, 
he  handed  the  reins  over  to  the  captain-general,  Pezuela. 
Pezuela  was  a  man  of  nerve  and  sense.  He  availed  himself 
rapidly  of  the  new  troops  that  were  brought  into  the  city ; 
scattered  detachments  wherever  new  tumults  seemed  to  be 
brewing,  and  planted  a  few  pieces  of  formidable  artillery  in 
the  Plaza.  While  this  was  going  on,  there  was  rare  spur- 
ring and  galloping  of  aids  and  messengers  from  post  to  post, 
and  you  could  see,  even  from  a  distance,  that  an  active  and 
strong  will  was  at  work.  Along  with  the  cannon,  came  an 
edict  or  bando,  informing  the  people  that  the  city  was  under 
martial  law,  and  that  the  captain-general  meant  to  enforce 
it.  He  promised  to  do  his  best  for  the  removal  of  grievances 
and  the  relief  of  the  public  necessities,  but  he  would  have  no 
further  tumult.  If  good  words  would  not  produce  order,  he 
promised  them  that  he  would  try  bayonets.  He  commanded 
them,  therefore,  to  avoid  assembling  in  groups  in  the  streets 


184  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

or  public  places,  and  enjoined  on  all  good  citizens,  to  open 
their  shops  as  usual,  and  to  have  lights,  that  night,  before 
their  houses.  In  the  meantime,  he  dispatched  a  troop  of 
cavalry  to  Alcala,  and  brought  every  baker,  with  his  bread, 
at  full  gallop  to  the  city,  where  he  forced  them  all  to  sell  at 
the  low  rates  prescribed  ;  the  ayuntamiento  binding  itself  to 
make  good  the  difference.  By  these  means,  when  evening 
came,  the  revolution  was  at  an  end,  and  all  mouths  were 
stopped  effectually,  in  more  senses  than  one. 

When  I  took  my  walk,  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  tired 
soldiers,  who  had  made  a  forced  march  into  the  city,  were 
bivouacking  in  the  streets.  Sentinels  were  at  the  corners, 
and  a  regiment  of  lancers  were  under  arms  in  the  Plaza. 
At  night,  there  was  a  blaze  of  torches  from  every  balcony, 
so  that  no  rioter  could  hide  him  in  the  darkness — a  fortu- 
nate precaution,  by-the-by — for  the  mob  had  broken  nearly 
all  the  public  lamps,  and  there  would  have  been  rare  sport, 
but  for  the  illumination.  Next  day,  every  thing  was  quiet, 
although  martial  law  was  still  kept  up,  and  the  array  of  sen- 
tinels and  strong  patrols  continued,  until  it  seemed  a  matter 
of  great  supererogation.  The  truth  is,  that  the  "  invictos 
Sevillanos"  became  as  quiet  as  lambs,  when  they  got  their 
bread  and  saw  the  cannon.  Our  shrewd  little  Gallego  serv- 
ant, who  was  no  admirer  of  the  Andalusians,  shrugged  his 
shoulders  as  soon  as  martial  law  was  proclaimed,  and  told 
me  the  feast  was  over — "  se  acabo  la  fiesta  /"  "  They  were 
poor  devils,"  he  said,  "  all  of  them — se  les  va  todo  enpalabras, 
(every  thing  passes  off,  with  them,  in  talk,)  the  dram  (el  Ira- 
guito)  was  all  their  pluck,  and  to  say  the  truth  of  them,  they 
bore  the  same  relation  to  men  that  the  bocas  de  la  Ida  did 
to  crabs  ;  they  were  all  mouth  !"  Whether  the  valiant 
little  fellow  was  particularly  ferocious  himself,  I  have  no 
means  of  knowing.  He  certainly  turned  very  pale,  when  a 
poor  wounded  boy  was  carried  past  the  Fonda  :  but  that, 
perhaps,  was  from  pity  or  indignation.  Ill,  however,  as  he 
spoke  of  the  people,  there  were  those  who  thought  no  better 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  185 

of  the  mighty  men  of  war  who  had  subdued  them.  An  in- 
telligent old  gentleman  from  Xerez,  who  was  with  us  at  the 
Fonda,  and  who,  having  been  a  militar  himself,  knew  all 
the  tricks  of  trade,  used  to  amuse  us  for  some  days  after  the 
riot,  by  his  prophecies  as  to  the  number  of  ribbons  and  crosses 
which  her  Majesty  would  be  compelled  to  dispense  to  her 
brave  and  faithful  officers.  But  for  the  hope  of  such  things, 
he  said,  the  patrols  and  bivouacking  would  have  ended  with 
the  day  of  tumult.  I  left  Seville  before  the  due  time  had 
rolled  round  for  the  old  gentleman's  prophecies  to  be  verified, 
but  I  have  no  doubt  the  thing  ended  as  he  supposed.  It  is 
but  fair,  however,  to  say,  that  but  for  the  energy  and  prompt- 
ness of  Pezuela's  measures,  there  would,  in  all  probability, 
have  been  much  bloodshed,  and  to  have  averted  that,  was 
certainly  worth  a  star  or  two. 

A  little  incident,  which  occurred  during  the  prevalence  of 
the  excitement,  will  illustrate,  as  well  as  a  volume  of  dis- 
quisitions, the  strange,  mercurial  character  with  which  the 
captain-general  had  to  deal.  In  his  bando,  he  informed 
them,  among  other  things,  that  there  was  no  reasonable 
ground  for  anticipating  any  permanent  scarcity  of  provisions ; 
for  the  coming  crop  was  both  near  and  bountiful,  and  there 
was,  besides,  an  unusual  abundance  of  habas  (a  large  fari- 
naceous bean),  and  other  vegetables,  already  ripe,  and  in  the 
market.  The  people  took  the  proclamation  of  martial  law 
and  the  threat  of  bayonets,  as  mere  matters  of  course,  and 
rather  respectful  than  otherwise  ;  but  they  fired  magnani- 
mously at  the  suggestion  that  they  were  to  live  on  greens, 
like  hogs  or  cattle  !  Expressions  of  indignation  at  the  insult 
were  to  be  heard  on  every  side,  and,  two  days  after  the  bando 
was  published  and  the  bread  question  had  been  settled,  there 
was  a  fatal  collision,  about  the  beans,  between  a  detachment 
of  the  municipal  guards,  and  a  body  of  young  indignationists. 
For  some  time  afterward,  the  young  men,  even  of  the  better 
classes,  might  be  seen  at  the  cafes,  and  on  the  public  walks, 
with  the  hulls  of  the  habas  cockaded  on  their  hats,  or  hang- 


186  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

ing  at  their  button-holes.  And  yet,  probably,  there  is  no 
article  of  diet  more  popular  in  Andalusia  than  the  habas,  in 
their  season,  and  one  of  the  sweetest  little  melodies  they  sing 
for  you — full  of  love  and  vegetables — is  the  song  of  " Habas 
verdesf" 

Neither  hunger  nor  indignation  had  power  to  keep  down 
the  lively  spirits  of  the  Sevillanos,  so  proverbially  fond  of 
music  and  the  dance.  On  one  of  the  evenings  when  martial 
law  was  still  rampant,  and  theaters  were,  of  course,  forbidden 
things,  I  was  informed  by  Bailly,  that  a  dancing-master,  a 
friend  of  his,  was  about  to  refresh  himself  with  a  private 
ballet,  to  which,  if  I  pleased,  my  subscription  would  make 
me  welcome.  About  half-past  ten,  of  a  very  dark  night,  I 
started  with  my  guide,  and  a  young  Englishman  who  was 
at  the  Fonda,  in  search  of  the  unlawful  entertainment.  The 
place  was  not  far  off,  and  we  soon  found  ourselves  in  a  long, 
dark  corredor,  through  which  we  stumbled  into  a  room  with 
a  tiled  floor,  where  a  few  benches  and  some  very  smoky 
lamps  gave  token  of  preparation.  In  a  little  ante-chamber, 
sate  the  chief  musician  :  an  old  fellow,  with  his  calcines 
stuck  tight  upon  his  head,  and  a  vile  fiddle  in  his  hands,  on 
which  he  sawed  with  might  and  main.  A  desolate-looking 
guitarist,  by  his  side,  pulled  a  monotonous  accompaniment 
from  very  sorry  strings,  and  these  were  the  whole  orchestra. 
Around  the  room  with  us  sate  a  few  elderly  dames,  decent, 
though  poor,  and  there  were  groups  gathering  rapidly  in  the 
corredor.  .  In  a  few  moments,  some  gentlemen  amateurs 
(aficionados)  came  in,  and  their  appearance  was  the  signal 
for  the  castanets  to  sound,  and  the  corps  de  ballet  to  show 
themselves.  A  black-eyed,  gipsy-looking  girl,  one  of  the 
cigarreras  of  the  riot,  led  the  way,  a  fair  example,  in  her 
humble  fashion,  that — 

"  —  are  Spain's  maids  no  race  of  Amazons, 
But  formed  for  all  the  witching  arts  of  love." 

Her  clever,  graceful  figure  was  done  up  in  a  tight  boddice 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  187 

of  black  velvet,  beneath  which  a  white  saya,  or  short  skirt, 
depended — full,  floating,  and  miraculously  flounced.  Her 
hair  was  braided  into  the  mona,  or  top-knot,  which  is  worn 
by  the  majas  at  festive  times,  and  there  were  carnations  and 
roses  tastefully  mingled  with  her  tresses,  and  festooned  along 
her  drapery.  The  silkiness  of  her  hose  was  not  much  to  speak 
of  (if  one  must  be  candid),  but  her  dancing  implements  were 
excellent  to  look  upon,  as  such  things  nowadays  go.  In 
form  and  motion,  altogether,  she  had  but  small  resemblance 
to  the  fury,  who,  two  days  before,  had  shouted,  M  Death  to 
the  jefe  politico  /"  and  had  broken  the  heads  of  his  defend- 
ers. After  the  cigarrera,  came  a  troop  of  younger  girls,  in 
maja  costume,  short,  bright,  and  ample  ;  and  the  rear  was 
brought  up  by  the  queen  of  the  evening,  whom  they  called 
the  campanera,  or  bell-woman,  as  she  was  the  daughter  of 
the  bell-ringer  of  the  Cathedral,  and  lived  with  him,  high  up 
among  the  hawks,  on  the  top  of  the  Giralda.  She  was  a 
beautiful  woman,  even  in  Seville,  of  fine  form  and  graceful 
carriage,  and  perhaps  almost  eighteen.  Her  saya  was  of  the 
gipsy  fashion,  of  varied  and  bright  colors,  covered  all  over 
with  furbelows  and  flounces,  and  her  little  feet  kept  twinkling 
to  the  merry  clicking  of  her  castanets.  The  men  were  rather 
a  bad  specimen  for  Andalusia,  but  they  had  stripped  them- 
selves of  their  vests  and  jackets,  and  bound  their  red  sashes 
tight  about  their  waists,  as  if  for  serious  work.  About  eleven, 
another  party  of  aficionados  came  in,  and  then  the  perform- 
ances began. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  say  any  thing  about  the  variety 
of  dances  that  we  saw,  for  to  look  at  such  things,  without 
the  music  and  accompaniments,  is  but  a  dull  business,  and 
to  read  of  them  would  be  doubly  dreary.  There  were 
Sevillanas  and  jarabes,  boleros  and  the  jota  Arragonesa,  all 
of  which  the  reader,  if  he  is  a  ballet-fancier,  has  seen  more 
or  less  badly  imitated  by  dancers  from  other  countries.  They 
are,  like  the  obelisks  of  Egypt,  very  national  and  character- 
istic, of  course,  but  still  not  utterly  untransportable.  The 


188  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

ole,  like  the  pyramids,  must  stay  forever  where  it  was 
planted,  and  you  might,  in  sober  seriousness,  as  well  at- 
tempt to  ship  the  tomb  of  Cheops  to  France,  as  to  have 
the  ole  done,  as  it  should  be,  by  any  but  an  Andalusian 
born.  I  can  not  describe  it,  of  course,  and  yet  I  thought  I 
had  a  very  decided  appreciation  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  campanera  performed  it,  until — after  gliding  all  around 
the  room,  with  the  melting  glances,  the  tossed  arms,  the 
gyrations  and  saltations  that  the  case  required — she  linger- 
ed for  an  instant  just  in  front  of  me,  and  stamping  quickly 
twice  or  thrice  upon  the  floor,  went,  "  dotili  tremor  e" 
through  a  dozen  evolutions  in  a  moment,  of  which,  as  I 
am  a  living  man,  I  believe  the  drawing  of  a  circle  with  her 
foot,  about  my  head,  was  one  !  A  strange,  topsy-turvy  feel- 
ing came  upon  me,  as  if  the  room  were  upside  downward, 
and  when  my  bewilderment  was  over,  the  ole  was  a  shape- 
less dream  ! 

Artistically  considered,  it  would  have  been  very  difficult 
for  the  campanera  to  have  been  surpassed,  but  Spanish 
dancing,  and  especially  the  ole,  is  not  a  thing  of  art. 
There  is  no  "poetry  of  motion,"  or  philosophy,  or  meta- 
physics, or  any  such  nonsense  about  it.  It  is  a  business  of 
reality — a  labor  of  love — and  has  nothing  whatever  to  do 
with  the  floating  on  clouds,  and  gliding  like  sylphs,  which 
have  made  so  much  money  for  the  ladies  "  in  muslin  wings 
and  pink  shoes."  The  performer  goes  into  it  with  body  and 
soul,  as  well  as  arms  and  legs.  The  spectators,  male  and 
female,  gaze  on  it  with  a  rapt  enjoyment,  for  which  enthu- 
siasm is  a  cold  word.  When  the  maja  ties,  in  air,  one  of 
those  indescribable  and  gordian  knots  of  hers,  the  castanets, 
in  every  hand,  break  into  one  wild  rattle  !  "Jaleo  !  jaleo  ! 
jaleo.'"  rings  from  every  quarter;  the  fiddler — if  there  be 
one — grows  lively  to  very  desperation  ;  the  guitar  jerks  his 
notes  out  by  the  roots,  and  down  the  calaneses  go  upon  the 
floor  at  the  fair  dancer's  feet,  while  cloaks  are  spread,  like 
Raleigh's  before  Elizabeth  !  Excited  by  the  admiration  she 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  189 

has  won,  the  maja  spins  around  more  actively  and  winningly 
than  ever,  when  suddenly  she  pauses  in  front  of  some  one — 
if  pause  that  may  be  called,  which  is  one  vibratory  motion  all 
the  while.  Off  comes  the  hat  of  the  gallant  whom  thus  she 
favors,  and  probably,  before  he  thinks,  he  throws  it  at  her  feet. 
It  would  be  wiser  were  he  less  impatient,  for  perchance  she 
pauses  but  to  mock  him,  and  passes  to  another,  not  noticing 
his  homage.  If  he  will  be  cautious,  he  can  cheat  her,  for 
her  eyes  have  other  business  than  that  of  looking  at  the 
ground.  He  may  pretend  to  throw  his  hat  down,  and  may 
hide  it  under  the  foldings  of  his  cloak.  If  she  is  deceived 
and  leaves  him,  the  laugh  is  his  ;  but  if  she  stamps  before 
him,  then  let  him,  as  he  is  a  squire  of  dames,  down  with 
his  beaver,  "  a  sus  pies."  She  may  put  her  foot  upon  it  in 
her  triumph,  if  she  will,  but  she  is  generous,  and  will  not. 
She  will  vanish  as  she  came,  except  that  she  will  pay  him, 
as  she  passes,  the  bewildering  compliment  about  his  head, 
which  was,  as  I  have  written,  so  mysterious  to  me. 

The  small  hours  were  gathering,  when  I  bethought  me 
of  the  Fonda,  and  I  left  the  dancers  still  active  and  the 
crowd  still  merry.  Of  a  certainty,  it  is  a  wise  thing  to  send 
invalids  to  Seville  ! 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Italica — The  Coach — Triana — San  Isidoro  del  Campo — Guzman  el 
Bueno— Hernan  Cortes — The  Halls  of  the  Montezumas — Peasants 
— The  Ruins — The  Amphitheater — The  Wine-drinkers  and  our 
Adventure  on  the  Road. 

ON  the  first  Sunday  of  my  stay  at  Seville,  I  directed 
Bailly  to  procure  a  conveyance  for  Italica,  and  when  oui 
coach  obeyed  his  summons,  I  am  not  sure  it  was  much  less 
a  curiosity  than  the  ruined  city  of  Adrian,  Trajan,  and 
Theodosius.  Figure  to  yourself  a  carriage-body,  partaking 
in  some  degree  of  the  appearance  of  a  bath-tub.  Instead  of 
doors,  there  was  a  bar  of  iron,  on  each  side,  which  passed 
across  the  opening  by  which  you  entered,  and  which  answer- 
ed the  double  purpose  of  keeping  the  machine  from  falling  to 
pieces  and  you  from  tumbling  out.  There  was  a  seat,  for 
two,  at  each  extremity,  and  over  the  hinder  one  a  gig-top 
spread  itself,  of  the  most  primitive  "  qui  quondam"  shape. 
There  was  a  coat  of  arms,  ample  and  glorious,  painted  on 
each  side,  and  the  whole  apparatus  was  fastened,  without 
springs,  between  the  heavy  timbers  of  a  huge  red  frame, 
which,  in  its  turn,  was  planted  on  the  axles.  There  were 
platforms,  red  also,  of  some  two  or  three  feet  square,  before 
the  body  and  behind,  upon  the  frame ;  on  the  front  one 
sate  the  driver,  while  he  was  not  running  with  his  team. 
The  tongue  was  like  the  mast  of  some  small  admiral,  and, 
when  we  halted  suddenly,  it  would  rise  so  near  the  perpen- 
dicular, that  we  could  almost  look  to  see  our  horses  swinging 
from  its  summit,  like  Baron  Munchausen's  from  the  steeple, 
after  his  famous  snow-storrn.  Our  harness  was  of  twisted 
ropes,  mostly  ;  our  steeds  were  four ;  our  driver  wild  and 
wicked,  plying  his  long  lash  unsparingly,  and  shouting  im- 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  191 

precations — to  have  divided  which  into  parcels  small  enough 
for  venial  sins,  would  have  puzzled  the  Abbess  of  Andouillets 
and  the  fair  Margarita. 

My  companions  were  an  English  gentleman  and  the 
estimable  militar  from  Xerez.  Bailly,  of  course,  gave  us  his 
guidance.  We  drove,  with  a  rattling  and  screaming  horrible 
to  hear,  across  the  wretched  bridge  of  boats  which  leads  over 
the  Guadalquivir  to  Triana.  Passing  through  that  unat- 
tractive suburb  of  potteries  and  gipsies,  we  had,  from  the 
open  country  beyond  it,  a  beautiful  panorama  of  the  river, 
with  all  its  vessels  and  their  Sunday  banners  flying,  and 
then  the  venerable  walls,  the  Golden  Tower,  the  stately 
churches,  with  the  proud  cathedral  and  its  lofty  belfry  above 
all.  Our  course  was  to  the  right,  after  crossing  the  river, 
and  we  then  went  on,  in  a  direction  nearly  north.  Upon 
our  left,  the  country  rolled  high  and  gracefully,  but  before 
us,  and  on  the  river-side,  it  was  beautifully  green  and  level, 
covered  with  barley  then  near  ripe,  wheat  in  great  luxuri- 
ance, and  vegetables  and  olives  to  the  fullest  limit  of  abund- 
ance. Though  it  was  Sunday,  a  good  many  of  the  peasants 
were  at  work  in  the  fields,  and  the  huge  piles  of  "  habas" 
they  were  gathering  satisfied  me,  that  the  captain-general 
was  right,  and  people  need  not  starve.  Gently  over  the 
smooth  places  :  rapidly  over  the  rough  ones  :  at  a  run,  up- 
hill, and  in  the  slowest  walk,  down-dale,  our  Phaeton  carried 
us,  as  he  listed,  through  field  and  orchard  ;  our  road  made 
pleasant,  in  spite  of  him,  by  the  beauty  of  the  evening,  the 
plenty  that  was  prodigal  around  us,  and  the  countless  flowers, 
that — 

"  Their  blue  eyes  with  tears  o'erflowing, 
Stood,  like  Ruth,  among  the  golden  corn." 

We  passed  through  the  dirty  village  of  Cama,  and  then, 
about  a  league  from  Seville,  we  came  upon  the  dismantled 
Convent  of  San  Isidoro  del  Campo.  Here,  hard  by  the 
ruins  of  Italica — perhaps  upon  the  very  site  of  that  dead 
city — Guzman  el  Bueno,  the  hero  of  Tarifa,  full  five  centuries 


192  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

ago,  caused  a  noble  monastery  to  be  reared.  Within  the 
chapel,  he  and  his  wife,  and  their  children  as  they  came 
after  them,  were  to  be  buried.  There  were  cloisters  for 
forty  monks  and  more,  with  broad  lands,  and  rents,  and  vas- 
sals, and  the  sole  tenure  was  to  be,  that  "  every  day,  forever 
and  ever"  (cada  dia,  para  siempre  jamas),  these  forty  monks 
should  sing  ten  masses,  for  his  soul  and  his  wife's.  Upon 
the  anniversary  of  the  death  of  each  of  them,  there  was  to 
be  a  solemn  service,  through  all  time,  and  every  day  they 
were  to  be  commended,  in  the  chapter,  to  the  mercy  of  their 
Saviour.  The  charter  and  the  terms  on  which  it  was  thus 
held  were  to  be  read,  twice  in  each  year,  in  order,  as  the 
hero  said,  that  the  remembrance  of  himself  and  of  his  gentle 
lady  might  endure  for  evermore — "para  que  nuestra  remem- 
branza  sea  durable  para  siempre  jamas!""  Reader  !  the 
Guzman  and  his  spouse,  and  the  long  line  that  followed 
them,  still  slumber  beneath  the  aisles  where  they  were  laid. 
Their  tombs  are  there,  with  effigies  and  epitaphs,  and  all 
the  blazonry  of  their  armorial  pride.  But  the  monks  have 
all  gone,  among  the  revolutions  of  latter  days,  and  many  of 
the  works  of  art,  which  once  adorned  the  chapels  and  the 
cloisters,  went  away,  with  Soult,  when  France  was  "  civil- 
izing" Europe.  San  Isidoro  is  now  the  parish  church  of 
the  miserable  hamlet  of  Santi  Ponce,  and  the  cloisters  are 
a  prison  for  galley-slaves  !  Yet  still,  from  far  and  near, 
the  castellated  walls  look  proudly  mindful  of  the  greatness 
they  were  reared  to,  and  there  is  something,  in  the  desolate 
isolation  of  the  lonely  hill  they  crown,  which  gives  dignity 
and  awe  even  to  their  fallen  fortunes. 

As  if  to  add  to  the  melancholy  and  humiliating  associations 
which  surround  San  Isidoro,  Mr.  Ford  informs  us  that  Her- 
nan  Cortes  also  was  buried  there,  before  the  removal  of  his 
bones  to  Mexico.  This  is  an  error,  as  will  be  seen  by 
reference  to  Prescott's  History,  where  note  is  taken  of  his 
interment  in  the  Convent  of  San  Isidro  within  the  walls 
of  Seville,  in  the  vault  of  the  Dukes  of  Medina-Sidonia. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  193 

Where  the  remains  of  the  bold  conqueror  now  are,  not  even 
his  acute  historian  can  tell.  They  were  sleeping,  quietly,  in 
1823,  in  the  Hospital  of  Jesus,  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  when 
they  were  removed,  by  pious  stealth,  to  save  them  from  the 
rampant  republicanism  of  the  mob.  From  that  time  to  the 
present,  their  resting-place  has  been  unknown.  It  would 
have  been  appropriate  indeed,  if  some  of  our  gallant  officers— 
during  their  late  sojourn  in  what  are  so  poetically  called  the 
"  Halls  of  the  Montezumas" — had  deemed  it  worth  their 
while  to  illustrate  the  second  conquest,  by  seeking  out  and 
honoring  the  relics  of  the  hero  of  the  first. . 

After  passing  San  Isidore,  a  turn  in  the  road  carried  us 
to  the  hamlet  of  Santi  Ponce,  and  we  struck  off,  a-fbot, 
through  the  fields  on  the  left,  to  hunt  up  Italica.  It  was 
not  long  before  we  arrived  at  what  is  called  the  Forum,  of 
which  a  crumbled  wall  or  two,  and  a  poor  draped  torso,  ly- 
ing on  its  back,  are  all  the  relics  visible.  Passing  on,  through 
a  rich  grain-field  which  led  us  to  an  olive-orchard,  we  met 
troops  of  peasant  girls,  crowned  with  red  poppies  and  other 
bright  blossoms,  and  wearing  chaplets  as  they  frolicked  on 
their  way.  They  were  escorted  by  their  fathers  or  their 
sweethearts,  who  walked  with  the  long  porra,  or  forked  staff, 
which  is  the  inseparable  companion  of  the  Andalusian  mafo. 
From  these  good  people,  we  learned  the  shortest  path  to- 
ward the  ruins,  and  passing,  as  they  told  us,  by  an  ancient 
spring,  we  came  in  a  few  moments  on  the  noble  amphithe- 
ater, which  lay  in  a  sort  of  basin,  so  that  we  could  not  see 
it  until  very  near.  A  few  seats  and  some  of  the  inner  walls 
remain,  with  enough  of  the  outer  circle  to  indicate  the  orig- 
inal extent  of  the  building  and  give  some  notion  of  its  once 
imposing  appearance.  It  is,  indeed,  a  beautiful  ruin  ;  gray 
and  solemn,  but  yet  not  wild  or  harshly  desolate.  The 
ripening  grain  grew  thick,  when  I  was  there,  all  over  the 
arena  once  fertilized  by  human  blood,  and  the  huge  masses 
of  rough  masonry  were  hidden,  half,  by  clustering  foliage  and 
many  flowers.  It  seemed  as  if  the  earth  were  fast  claiming 

I 


194  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

its  own  again,  and  the  works  of  man  were  at  last  following 
after  him.  I  had  read,  long  before  and  often,  the  glorious 
cantion  of  Rioja,  dedicated  to  the  ruined  city,  and  I  could 
but  feel,  more  than  ever,  as  I  stood  among  the  broken  arches, 
the  expressive  melancholy  of  his  solemn  verse. 

li  i  Como,  en  el  cerco  vano 
De  su  desierta  arena, 
El  gran  pueblo  no  suena  ? 
i  Donde,  pues  fieras  hay,  estd  el  desnudo 
Luchador  ?     i  Donde  esta  el  atleta  fuerte  ? 
Todo  desparecio,  carnbio  la  suerte 
Voces  alegres  en  silencio  mitdo /" 

After  a  survey  from  the  most  elevated  portion  of  the  ruin, 
we  descended  to  the  arena  and  went  out  into  the  field  below, 
by  a  huge  covered  way,  which  seemed  to  have  been  the  main 
entrance,  in  the  Roman's  time.  Damp  and  lonely,  indeed,  it 
was,  and  the  lizards  ran  frightened  to  their  holes  as  we 
passed  through  ;  so  strange  was  now  a  human  footstep,  where 
the  tide  of  life  once  flowed  so  fiercely.  Scattered  here  and 
there,  upon  the  open  ground  beyond,  were  a  few  more  stones 
remaining  from  the  olden  time,  but  they  were  not  worth  a 
nearer  visit,  and  we  skirted  the  field  back  to  where  our 
carriage  was  waiting  on  the  road.  We  found  it  surrounded 
by  a  most  Italian-looking  group  of  beggars  and  coin-venders, 
constituting,  I  doubt  not,  the  majority  of  the  worthy  citi- 
zens of  Santi  Ponce.  We  purchased  a  few  coppers,  of  the 
times  of  the  later  emperors,  and  had  hard  work  to  rid  our- 
selves of  importunities,  which  would  have  done  honor  to  the 
most  experienced  Lazzaroni  of  Pozzuoli.  It  was  getting 
late,  however,  and  our  driver  was  of  an  executive  turn,  so 
that  he  put  whip  at  once  to  horses  and  beggars,  just  as  I 
was  concluding  a  bargain  with  a  ragged  rascal,  for  a  fine 
piece  of  serpentine  which  might  have  been  part  of  Scipio's 
pavement.  As  we  remounted  the  hill,  by  San  Isidore,  the 
twilight  was  folding  its  wings  over  the  distant  city,  and  the 
towers  of  San  Juan  de  Alfarache,  on  the  highlands  to  our 
right,  were  but  dimly  visible  against  the  darkening  sky. 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  195 

About  a  mile  from  Seville  we  fell  in  with  troops  of  boon 
companions,  who  had  come  out  to  drink  their  manzanilla,  at 
the  wine  shops  on  the  road,  it  being  cheaper  there  than  in 
the  city,  to  enter  which  it  has  to  pay  a  duty  like  the  French 
octroi.  These  good  people  were  very  merry,  as  they  hasten- 
ed home,  and  one  of  them,  more  drunk  or  needy  than  the 
rest,  kept  running  alongside  our  carriage,  begging,  in  a  style 
which  sounded  very  much  like — "  stand  and  deliver  !"  We 
gave  him  a  trifle,  but  he  was  not  easily  satisfied,  and  took 
hold  angrily,  at  last,  of  the  iron  bar  which  served  for  door 
on  the  side  next  to  him,  swearing  quite  fiercely  that  he  was 
starving,  and  must  have  money.  Bailly,  who  is  a  stout 
man,  and  choleric,  pushed  the  intruder  from  us,  with  all 
force,  as  he  was  making  an  effort  to  leap  up.  He  fell  with 
his  face  downward,  on  the  stones,  and  as  our  horses  were  at 
full  gallop,  we  saw  no  more  of  him.  I  mention  the  incident, 
because  no  book  of  travels  in  Spain  is  considered  orthodox, 
nowadays,  without  a  robbery,  and  this  having  been  my 
nearest  approach  to  such  a  catastrophe,  I  feel  it  my  duty  to 
make  the  most  of  it.  Perhaps  my  life  was  really  in  more 
danger  afterward,  when  I  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Faculty 
at  Granada.  A  man,  however,  is  accustomed  to  perils  of 
that  eort  from  his  infancy,  and  I  therefore  note  the  beggar's 
onslaught,  as  my  only  hair-breadth  scape,  in  Spain,  that  can 
be  called  peculiar  to  the  country. 

It  was  dark  and  late,  before  we  were  safe  again,  under 
the  shelter  of  Don  Jose's  roof.  We  told  our  story  to  our 
worthy  host,  who  gave  my  companions  consolation,  in  the 
shape  of  a  formidable  gaspacJw,  half-soup,  half-salad,  which 
must  have  sat  heavy  on  their  souls  that  night,  if  there  be 
any  thing  in  vinegar  and  specific  gravity. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Marshal  Soult,  and  Murillo's  Works — Picking  and  Stealing — Murillo's 
Style  and  Genius— The  Ideal  and  the  Natural — Paintings  of  the 
Deity — St.  Francis  and  the  Crucifix. 

WHEN  the  Marechal  Due  de  Dalmatic  went  down  to 
Seville,  the  fair  city  was  glorious  with  Murillo's  works  and 
memory.  The  bones  of  the  great  artist  had  been,  for  more 
than  a  century,  at  rest  before  the  altar  of  the  Church  of 
Santa  Cruz,  where  hung  Campana's  painting  of  the  Cruci- 
fixion, which  had  been  the  study  and  admiration  of  his  life, 
and  before  which  he  had  begged  that  he  might  be  buried. 
Convent  and  cathedral  were  filled  with  the  children  of  his 
genius,  and  he  had  thus  woven,  if  man  ever  wove,  a  spell 
around  the  city  of  his  birth.  The  Marshal-Duke  (all  hon- 
ored be  his  name  !)  had,  of  course,  great  reverence  for  art, 
but  being  far  above  the  little  superstitions  which  attach  to 
smaller  minds,  he  pulled  the  walls  of  Santa  Cruz  down,  gal- 
lantly, upon  Murillo's  grave,  and  flung  the  painter's  ashes 
out,  with  other  rubbish.  Of  recent  years,  long  after  this 
heroic  deed,  his  Marshalship  went  on  a  tour  through  En- 
gland, and  visited  a  poet's  tomb,  at  Stratford-upon-Avon. 
Most  probably,  he  had  not  heard  of  Shakspeare,  when  he 
was  at  Seville,  except  as  a  rude  dramatist,  whose  uncouth 
verses  not  Voltaire  himself  could  hammer  into  poetry.  It 
must  have  been,  then,  quite  a  novelty  and  full  of  pleasant 
and  suggestive  thought  to  him,  to  read  the  Stratford  epitaph  : 

"  Good  friend  !  for  Jesu's  sake  forbear 
To  dig  the  dust  enclosed  here ; 
Blest  be  the  man  that  spares  these  stones, 
And  curst  be  he  that  moves  my  bones !" 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  197 

Having  made  his  disposition  of  Murillo's  body,  it  was  but 
natural  that  Soult  should  feel  himself  entitled  to  a  portion 
of  his  goods  and  chattels  ;  and  so,  while  a  commission'  of 
savans,  in  the  Alcazar,  were  making  their  selections  for  the 
Imperial  Gallery,  the  Duke-Marshal  prudently  availed  him- 
self of  the  occasion,  to  do  such  picking  and  stealing,  on  his 
own  account,  as  in  those  days  became  so  high  a  functionary. 
When  the  day  of  retribution  and  of  restitution  came,  the 
imperial  spoil,  or  a  great  part  of  it,  returned,  but  the  Duke- 
Marshal  proved  himself  as  able  to  keep  as  to  take,  and  he 
has  now  in  his  possession,  critics  say,  the  finest  productions 
of  Murillo,  out  of  Spain — monuments  of  their  owner's  Van- 
dalism, and  the  painter's  genius.  Yet  still,  "  in  spite  of  my 
lord  cardinal,"  it  is  in  Seville  only  that  the  mighty  Andalu- 
sian  can  be  seen,  in  all  his  power.  His  choicest  labors  are 
still  there,  cherished  with  affectionate  and  proud  enthusiasm  ; 
altogether  unvarnished,  unpatched,  and  un-Frenchified,  ex- 
cept where,  here  and  there,  some  were  "  restored,"  during 
their  sojourn  in  the  Louvre.  The  traveler  who  has  seen 
Murillo,  only  in  England,  Italy,  or  France,  has  but  a  poor 
idea  of  the  master's  skill,  as  it  thus  shines  out  upon  his  native 
soil,  and  he  may  rest  assured,  were  he  to  pack  off  for  Seville 
to  seo  the  pictures  only,  that  no  man  who  had  visited 
them  before  him  would  call  it  a  fool's  errand. 

Among  those  who  are  not  critically  read,  in  things  of  art, 
the  general  notion  of  Murillo  is,  that  his  chief  excellence 
consisted,  in  painting,  to  a  miracle  of  truth,  the  boys  and  beg- 
gars and  the  common  out-door  life  of  Spain.  Such,  I  con- 
fess, was,  to  some  extent,  my  impression  on  the  subject,  be- 
fore I  had  seen  the  magnificent  Madonnas  in  the  Pitti 
Palace,  which  almost  hold  divided  empire  with  Raphael's 
Virgin  "of  the  chair."  In  Seville,  the  mistake  is  very 
soon  corrected.  The  traveler  finds  himself  surrounded  by 
triumphs  of  Murillo's,  in  the  very  loftiest  walks  of  art,  and, 
all  unskilled  as  he  may  chance  to  be,  he  lingers,  to  his  own 
surprise,  among  them,  attracted  by  a  something  which  is 


198  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

new  to  him,  after  even  the  master  pieces  of  the  Italian 
pencil.  It  is  not  coloring  or  drawing — touch  or  tone — 
"  the  purity  of  Dominichino,  the  corregiescity  of  Corregio," 
or  any  other  of  the  thousand  technicalities,  that  stir  the 
artistic  rapture  of  the  critical.  It  addresses  itself  to  his 
feelings,  rather  than  his  judgment :  it  is  a  matter  of  sym- 
pathy more  than  of  taste.  Not  that  his  taste  or  judgment 
would  be  skeptical,  were  both  or  either  put  on  guard,  but 
that  all  speculation  vanishes,  at  sight  of  the  fair  links  of 
human  tenderness  and  beauty,  with  which  the  painter  has 
united  the  bright  world  he  lived  in,  to  his  brighter  land  of 
dreams. 

A  great  deal  has  been  said  and  canted  (with  all  defer- 
ence) about  Murillo's  strict  adherence  to  mere  nature,  in  his 
forms,  and  his  devotion  to  the  local,  Andalusian  type,  even 
in  those  works  he  should  have  most  idealized.  His  Saviours, 
Saints,  and  Virgins,  beautiful  conceptions  as  they  are,  are 
simply  men  and  women,  it  is  said,  from  Seville  and  Triana. 
It  is  not  easy  to  understand  the  logic  of  these  objections, 
even  supposing,  for  a  moment,  that  they  have  any  founda- 
tion in  fact.  Idealization  would  seem  to  be  altogether  inde- 
pendent of  national  type,  and  unless  the  painter  of  sacred 
subjects  confine  himself  exclusively  to  Jews  and  Jewesses, 
there  is  no  very  obvious  reason  why  he  should  not  adopt  the 
traits  of  beauty  which  his  genius  blends,  from  one  variety 
of  the  Caucasian  family  as  well  as  another.  But  I  am 
convinced  that  the  charge  against  Murillo  of  indulging  in  a 
localizing  spirit,  has  no  foundation,  except  in  the  peculiar 
fidelity  with  which  his  purely  imitative  pieces  have  portray- 
ed the  homely  nature  he  professed  to  copy.  The  higher 
works,  in  which  his  fancy  reveled  among  the  mysteries  and 
wonders  of  religion,  are  as  free,  it  seems  to  me,  from  any 
thing  like  slavishness  to  an  exclusive  model,  as  those  of  any 
other  of  the  masters  of  the  art.  His  Virgins  of  the  Im- 
maculate Conception  (one  of  his  most  frequent  and  famous 
subjects)  are,  many  of  them,  fair  and  fair-haired ;  not  one, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  199 


that  I  remember,  has  complexion,  brow,  or  feature,  such  as 
marks  the  Andalusian  beauty.  In  the  wonderful  picture 
called  the  San  Felix  de  Cantalicio,  which  is  now  in  the 
Museum,  the  Virgin,  who  brings  down  her  blessed  infant  to 
the  saint  in  the  moment  of  his  ecstasy,  is,  without  doubt, 
I  think,  the  loveliest  creation  of  Murillo  and  certainly  one 
of  the  most  perfect  realizations  of  beauty  upon  canvas. 
Yet  her  blue  eyes  and  golden  tresses,  and  the  unsunned 
freshness  and  purity  of  her  whole  mien,  are  farthest,  of  all 
things,  from  the  characteristic  traits  of  Andalusia.  The 
youthful  Baptist,  to  be  sure,  is  always  brown  as  any  gipsy, 
but  that  is  an  exception,  for  the  sake  of  contrast.  There 
is  scarce  an  infant  Saviour,  in  all  Murillo's  pictures,  who  is 
not  painted  fair,  and  in  his  groups  of  fresh  and  blue-eyed 
cherubs  there  is  not  a  sign  of  the  "  near  sun." 

The  notion  that  Murillo's  tendencies  were  rather  toward 
the  "  natural"  than  the  "  ideal,"  amounts  to  something  or 
nothing,  according  to  circumstances.  It  is  very  common  to 
read,  in  the  books  of  art,  of  what  are  called  "  glorified 
form,"  and  "  divinity  of  expression  ;"  and,  as  it  is  a  great 
deal  easier  to  be  enthusiastic  than  definite,  these  words  and 
the  terms,  "  natural"  and  "  ideal,"  are  found,  generally, 
very  prominent  in  the  criticisms  and  commentaries  on  par- 
ticular and  admired  productions.  Like  all  things  unde- 
monstrable,  the  ideas  to  be  attached  to  these  phrases  have 
caused  great  disagreement,  from  time  to  time,  among  the 
doctors,  so  that  the  unlearned  may,  without  much  reproach, 
plead  guilty  to  a  slight  degree  of  confusion  in  respect  to 
their  meaning.  If,  as  that  profound  and  admirable  critic, 
Sir  Charles  Bell,  supposes,  "  the  only  interpretation  of  divin- 
ity in  the  human  figure,  as  represented  by  the  ancient  sculp- 
tors, be,  that  the  artists  avoided  individuality,"  the  thing  is, 
obviously,  of  easy  comprehension.  If  the  "  ideal"  be,  as 
other  writers  have  it,  a  choice  and  combination,  in  one 
form,  of  all  that  is  beautiful  in  many,  the  notion,  though 
not  quite  so  elevated,  and  rather  eclectic  than  creative,  is 


200  GLIMPSES    OF    SPAIN. 


nevertheless,  intelligible  enough.  In  neither  of  these  senses 
is  there  any  reason  why  Murillo's  pictures,  or  those  of  any 
body  else,  should  not  be  "  natural"  and  "  ideal"  both,  there 
being  no  necessity  at  all  why  idealization  should  result  in 
the  unnatural.  To  talk  seriously,  however,  of  representing 
"the  divine"  in  human  form,  so  as  to  convey  a  just  idea  of 
its  divinity,  seems  as  merely  absurd,  as  the  attempt  would 
be  to  convey  an  idea  of  sound,  by  addressing  the  organs  of 
sight  or  smell.  The  poet-painter  may  have  what  visions 
it  pleases  Heaven  to  vouchsafe  to  him ;  if  they  come  to 
him  in  human  shape,  as  is  most  likely,  and  if  he  paints 
them  in  the  same,  it  is  all  vanity  and  mere  vexation  to  re- 
quire that  he  shall  make  the  clay  what  it  has  never  been, 
and  can  not  be.  The  human  form  is  only  human,  "glorify" 
it  as  we  may ;  and  till  some  better  shape  shall  be  invented 
to  reveal  the  spirit,  it  would  seem  but  reasonable  wisdom, 
to  rest  satisfied  with  human  dignity  and  beauty,  at  their 
best,  as  all  that  art  can  hope  to  soar  to.  There  is  great 
ingenuity  and  force,  no  doubt,  in  the  suggestion  of  Sir  Charles 
Bell,  that  the  ideal  of  beauty  may  be  best  attained,  by  ex- 
aggerating, slightly,  on  canvas  or  in  marble,  the  outline,  both 
in  face  and  form,  of  whatever  indicates  the  higher,  purer 
qualities,  avoiding  and  subduing  what  is  low,  and  what  as- 
sociates itself  with  grosser  passion  or  the  brutal  forms.  Yet 
there  is  danger  in  all  this,  which  even  genius,  of  the  highest, 
with  difficulty  will  avoid.  Attempting  to  paint  more  than 
man,  the  artist  will  probably  paint  less,  and  what  he  calls 
"divinity,"  will  turn  out  nothing,  it  is  ten  to  one,  but  poor 
humanity  on  stilts.  It  will,  in  all  probability,  be  the  like- 
ness of  nothing  "  in  the  earth  beneath,"  but  it  by  no  means 
follows  that  it  will  resemble  any  thing  in  "the  heavens  above." 
The  most  inveterate  iconoclast  could  hardly  look  on  the 
Apollo,  for  a  moment,  without  a  thrill  of  awe  and  admiration, 
and  yet — perfection  as  it  is,  of  all  that  human  hands  have 
wrought,  to  image  the  ideal  and  the  beautiful — no  one,  I  am 
sure,  has  ever  felt  before  it  that  involuntary  bending  of  the 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  201 

knee,  which  the  mere  thought  of  present  Deity  would  prompt. 
It  is  the  majesty  arid  splendor  of  humanity  we  wonder  at  ;# 
it  never  occurs  to  us  that  we  should  adore.  The  mind  is 
elevated,  notwithstanding,  and  refined,  by  the  contemplation 
of  a  standard  of  mere  nature,  so  much  more  lofty  than  any 
previous  conception  of  its  own.  Few  persons,  on  the  con- 
trary, I  think,  can  see  the  grandest  efforts  of  the  Christian 
painters  to  clothe  the  Deity  in  human  form,  without  a  shud- 
der of  irresistible  disgust.  There  is  a  mixture  of  blasphemy 
and  folly  in  them,  which  shocks  even  the  least  reverent. 
They  do  not  elevate  the  human  :  they  degrade  and  drag 
down  the  divine. f  The  same  thing  may  be  said,  to  a  degree, 
of  the  delineations  of  the  angelic  nature.  Childhood,  in  its 
purity,  embodies  our  poor  notion  of  a  cherub,  better  than  any 
thing  we  know ;  and  thus  we  bear  with  art,  when  it  confines 
its  pictures  of  celestial  choirs  to  the  mere  groups  of  beaming, 
happy,  sinless  faces,  which  makes  some  masterpieces  so 
attractive.  But  legs  and  arms,  and  skirts  and  tunics,  are 
altogether  unangelic,  though  wafted  upon  wings ;  and  thus  it 
happens  that  we  sometimes  laugh,  in  spite  of  us.  when,  high 

*  The  fair  authoress  of  the  "Year  of  Consolation,"  seems  strangely 
unable  to  account  for  her  preference  of  the  Apollo  to  the  Venus.  On 
general  principles,  it  would  seem  to  be  a  very  natural  one. 

t  When  I  was  in  Florence,  I  was  taken  to  see  a  picture  which  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  native  artists  was  finishing,  as  a  present  to 
the  King  of  Sardinia.  It  was  a  "  Padre  Eterno"  painted  in  the  shape 
of  an  old  man,  with  lofty  brow,  grand  features,  and  a  long,  white 
beard,  and  flowing  hair.  The  robe  was  of  that  peculiar  violet  color, 
which  is  appropriated  to  the  garments  of  the  Deity,  by  the  almost 
universal  custom  of  the  old  masters.  The  painter  had,  wisely,  not 
attempted  to  give  the  expression  of  the  eyes,  for  they  were  cast  down 
and  nearly  covered  by  the  lids.  In  one  hand  the  globe  was  held,  and 
the  other  was  raised  to  bless  a  small  spot  of  the  continent  of  Europe, 
which  was  covered  by  the  Sardinian  arms ! 

The  picture  would  have  provoked  a  hearty  laugh,  or  an  expression 
of  disgust,  but  for  politeness'  sake,  and  the  almost  irresistible  temptation 
to  throw  both  the  artist  and  his  work  out  of  the  nearest  window.  The 
subsequent  fortunes  of  Charles  Albert  have  furnished  a  palpable  com- 
mentary on  the  whole  thing  and  its  folly,  palpable  enough  at  any  time. 


202  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

in  air,  seated  on  clouds  and  scraping  their  unearthly  fiddles, 
we  see  the  hierarchy  of  the  skies  making  concertos  for  the 
saints.  In  Raphael's  St.  Cecilia,  there  is  far  more  of  heaven 
in  the  enthusiast's  face  (though  it  is  fat  and  fair  and  merely 
mortal),  than  in  the  wondrous  orchestra  of  cloud-borne  sera- 
phim, plying  their  bows  above  her. 

Our  feelings,  as  we  look  upon  the  pictures  of  the  Saviour, 
are  modified,  of  course,  by  the  reflection  that  the  Godhead, 
in  his  person,  was  really  made  man,  and  bore  a  human  share 
of  suffering,  obloquy,  and  sorrow.  It  is  not,  therefore,  alto- 
gether unnatural,  that  he  should  be  represented  in  the  shape 
he  wore,  and  yet  we  turn,  dissatisfied  if  not  disgusted,  from 
the  mass  of  Ecce  Homos,  Pietds,  and  Crucifixions,  that  fill  the 
very  best  Italian  galleries.  Only  now  and  then  some  favored 
genius  molds  a  face  and  form,  in  which,  if  ever  stooping  to 
mere  dust,  we  feel  that  the  Divinity  might  dwell.  Such, 
for  example,  is  the  Christ  of  the  Transfiguration  ;  seen,  per- 
haps, to  greater  advantage,  after  the  brutal  contrast  of 
Angelo's  Last  Judgment,  in  another  chamber  of  the  Vatican. 
Yet,  even  in  the  splendid  triumph  of  Raphael's  high  art,  let 
fancy  and  enthusiasm  say  what  they  may,  it  is  the  Son  of 
Man  we  look  on,  not  the  Son  of  God  ! 

Murillo,  with  a  sense  of  beauty  and  of  poetry  almost  unlim- 
ited in  variety  and  scope,  was  full,  at  the  same  time,  of 
tenderness  and  human  sympathy.  No  man  would  have  com- 
prehended better,  or  have  felt  more  thoroughly  than  he,  the 
splendid  epic  of  which  the  Apollo  is  an  incarnation,  and  yet 
he  would  have  lingered,  I  am  sure,  with  deeper  interest  and 
feeling,  by  the  Gladiator's  side.  With  him,  the  Ideal  was  the 
child  of  sentiment  yet  more  than  fancy.  It  was  impulse,  not 
abstraction,  and  in  every  thing  he  touched,  the  loftiest  and  most 
spiritual^  conceptions  were  softened  and  surrounded  by  a  glow 
of  human  kindliness.  The  Virgin  of  the  Immaculate  Concep- 
tion— the  embodiment  of  deep  religious  mystery  and  dogma — 
rising  amid  clouds  and  seraphs  toward  Heaven ;  her  feet  upon 
the  crescent  moon  ;  has,  in  her  holy  and  ethereal  beauty,  the 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  203 

sweetest  traits  of  what  is  lovely  and  lovable  on  earth.  The 
Virgin  Mother,  clasping  her  infant  to  her  bosom,  has  none 
of  her  maternal  tenderness  disguised,  by  any  effort  of  'the 
painter  to  bestow  on  her  the  lofty  brow  and  solemn  thought- 
fulness  of  a  rapt  Sybil.  She  is  the  stainless  and  radiant 
handmaid  of  the  Lord,  but  yet  a  woman  nursing  her  first- 
born. The  beautiful  children — whom  no  man  ever  painted 
like  Murillo — though  in  feature  they  have  that  which  tells 
you  "  of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven" — remind  you 
always,  notwithstanding,  of  some  pure  and  happy  beings  you 
have  known  and  loved  on  earth.  They  are  of  a  better  world, 
but  they  went  to  it  from  this. 

How  much  to  be  lamented,  I  have  often  thought,  it  is, 
that  to  a  genius  such  as  was  Murillo's,  it  did  not  occur  to 
paint  the  subject  of  those  simple  words — "  Jesus  wept !"  In 
all  the  trials  of  the  Saviour  upon  earth,  his  persecutions,  buf- 
fetings,  and  death,  his  bond  of  union  with  our  nature  was 
one  of  suffering  only.  He  was  man,  in  man's  anguish  and 
wretchedness  alone.  In  his  transfiguration  and  his  resurrec- 
tion he  was  man  no  longer.  To  represent  him  in  the  one 
light,  is  painful  and  unwelcome  ;  in  the  other,  quite  impossible. 
In  the  touching  scene  I  have  alluded  to,  however,  the  Deity 
came  nearest  to  humanity,  just  at  the  point  where  mere 
humanity  seems  nearest  to  a  holier  and  better  being.  Jesus, 
for  the  moment,  there,  was  neither  God  nor  victim,  but  a 
friend,  at  his  friend's  grave,  forgetting  all  things  except  only 
"  how  he  loved  him."  What  is  there  that  can  consecrate 
our  nature,  like  the  genuine  grief  which  flows  from  an  un- 
selfish love  ?  What  could  have  made  us  better  feel  the 
closeness  of  the  Saviour  to  us,  than  to  have  seen  him  weeping 
as  a  brother  ?  The  picture  of  such  sorrow,  from  Murillo's 
pencil,  would  so  have  touched  all  hearts,  that  no  one  could 
have  paused  to  measure  whether  there  was  more  of  dust  or 
Deity  about  it.  Those  tears  would  have  been  grander  than 
a  thousand  glories  ! 

There  is,  indeed,  in  the  Museo,  a  painting  which  may 


204  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 


give  us  some  idea  of  what  the  loftier  subject  would  have 
been,  in  the  same  hands.  It  is  taken  from  a  legend  of  St. 
Francis,  which  informs  us,  that,  as  the  saint  was  kneeling 
before  a  crucifix,  the  Saviour  stretched  down  his  right  arm 
and  embraced  him,  to  reward  and  bless  his  piety.  Of  course 
the  artist  had  to  struggle  with  the  comparative  grossness 
of  such  a  conception,  and  yet  it  would  seem  hardly  possible 
to  fix  more  grandly,  upon  human  features,  the  expression  of 
divine  benignity  and  love.  "Never,"  says  M.  de  St.  Hilaire, 
"  never,  even  under  the  pencil  of  Raphael,  did  a  head  of 
Christ  express  resignation  so  sublime.  The  miseries  of  all 
humanity  seem  gathered  on  that  heavenly  brow,  from  which 
there  shines,  in  spite  of  them,  a  heavenly  spirit,  thoughtful 
only,  even  under  the  slow  torments  of  the  cross,  to  bless  his 
revilers  and  pray  for  his  executioners!"  Mr.  Swinburne,  an 
English  traveler  of  the  last  century,  who  is  still  much  quoted, 
disposes  of  this  great  work,  curtly,  as  «  a  friar  embracing 
Christ  crucified,  who  stoops  from  the  cross  and  brings  down 
an  arm  to  press  the  saint's  shoulder."  Mr.  Swinburne  was 
obviously  a  business-man,  and  probably  a  descendant  of  the 
learned  judge,  famous  in  the  law  for  a  wise  book  on 
"  testaments  and  last  wills,"  which  may,  perhaps,  account 
for  his  having  set  down  the  St.  Francis,  after  the  fashion  of 
an  item  in  an  inventory.  But,  be  that  as  it  may,  I  give  his 
commentary  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  may  desire  a  set- 
off  to  the  eloquence  of  St.  Hilaire,  and  the  poor  expression 
of  my  own  enthusiasm. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Notices  of  Murillo's  principal  Works — The  Museum — Seville  School 
— Zurbaran — Murillo's  Pictures  for  the  Capuchin  Convent — Story 
of  his  Residence  there — The  Virgin  of  the  Napkin,  &c. — Pictures 
at  La  Caridad — The  San  Juan  de  Dios — Pictures  at  the  Cathedral — 
The  Guardian  Angel. 

THE  chief  productions  of  Murillo,  in  Seville,  may  be  found 
in  the  Museum,  the  Cathedral,  and  the  Hospital  of  La 
Caridad.  The  Museum  was  established  in  1840,  in  the 
noble  edifice  which  was  once  the  convent  of  la  Merced.  It 
contains  a  large  number  of  the  best  pictures  that  belonged 
to  the  suppressed  monastic  institutions,  and  is,  of  course,  the 
only  place  in  which  the  fine  and  famous  school  of  Seville 
can  be  studied  and  appreciated,  as  a  whole.  The  works  of 
Castillo,  Roelas,  Zurbaran,  and  Herrera  the  elder  are  col- 
lected there,  in  considerable  numbers,  with  a  multitude  of 
others  from  pencils  of  no  less  repute  than  merit.  With  the 
exception  of  Velasquez,  Ribera,  and  Murillo,  Zurbaran  is  per- 
haps better  known  than  any  of  the  Spanish  painters,  beyond 
the  limits  of  his  country.  His  chef-d'oeuvre,  the  Ascent  of 
St.  Thomas  Aquinas  into  Heaven,  was  carried  to  Paris, 
where,  says  Widdrington,  "it  burst  on  the  astonished  world  of 
artists  and  amateurs,  as  the  work  of  an  obscure  and  unknown 
painter,  claiming  to  rank  with  the  Transfiguration  and 
Communion  of  St.  Jerome."  In  the  days  when  the  rule  of 
suum  cuique  was  re-established,  the  angelic  doctor  went 
back  to  Seville,  with  the  other  saints  who  had  been  roam- 
ing. Zurbaran  painted  a  large  number  of  pictures  for  the 
Carthusians,  and  was  especially  renowned,  as  he  still  is,  for 
his  skill  in  managing  the  difficulties  of  their  white  drapery. 


206  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

The  celebrated  picture  of  St.  Romualdo,  in  the  second  cham- 
ber of  the  Vatican  Gallery,  has  derived  its  chief  attraction 
from  the  treatment  of  the  white  dresses  of  the  saint  and  his 
companions.  The  artist  is  said  to  have  been  indebted  to  the 
accident  of  having  seen  three  millers  under  a  tree  together, 
for  the  great  success  with  which  he  has  given  light  and 
shade  to  so  monotonous  a  group.  Those  who  have  seen  the 
wonderful  ease  and  power  with  which  Zurbaran  combined 
the  same  unpromising  materials,  will  hold  the  Roman 
master-piece  far  less  a  miracle  than  it  is  commonly  reputed. 

That  part  of  la  Merced  which  was  formerly  the  church, 
is  now  devoted,  principally,  to  the  paintings  of  the  other 
masters,  Murillo's  most  attractive  pieces  having  been  col- 
lected in  an  upper  chamber,  which  belongs  to  them,  ex- 
clusively. Over  the  altar-place,  however,  there  hangs  one 
of  his  superb  "  Conceptions" — a  colossal  figure  of  the  Virgin, 
floating  upward  through  an  atmosphere  of  glory.  The 
form  has  all  the  dignity  and  majesty,  with  more  than  the 
ascending  lightness  of  Titian's  Assumption  :  the  beauty, 
purity,  and  sweetness  of  the  features  and  expression  are  be- 
yond any  thing  that  Titian  ever  dreamed  of.  The  simple 
blue  and  white,  which  are  the  only  colors  of  the  drapery, 
melt  imperceptibly  into  each  other,  and  the  graceful  folds, 
sweeping  beneath  the  feet,  seem  borne  up  by  the  heavier  air. 
A  group  of  angels,  ministering,  are  gazing,  as  they  rise,  upon 
the  Heaven,  of  which  they  seern  not  less  a  part  than  are  the 
stars  that  crown  the  Virgin's  brow. 

Of  the  Murillos  in  the  upper  gallery,  those  from  the  late 
Convent  of  the  Capuchins  are  deemed  the  finest.  The  legend 
runs,  that  the  great  painter  had  the  fortune  to  be  wedded 
to  one  of  those  ladies  of  lively  temper  and  elocutionary  pro- 
pensities, for  whose  weaknesses  the  common  law  provided, 
in  its  gallantry,  a  pleasant  hydropathic  remedy.  Rightfully 
or  wrongfully,  she  had  possessed  herself  with  certain  trouble- 
some conjugal  suspicions,  and  had  determined  to  make  the 
Inquisition  as  wise  as  she  believed  herself  to  be,  on  the  sub- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  207 

ject  of  her  husband's  sins.  Murillo,  as  the  story  goes, 
heard  of  her  kind  intentions,  by  good  luck,  and  quite  fore- 
stalled her,  by  asking  from  the  Capuchins  permission  to 
retreat  a  while  to  their  cloisters,  for  prayer  and  medita- 
tion. The  good  fathers,  nothing  loth,  welcomed  the  penitent 
most  kindly,  and  turned  their  hospitality  to  some  account 
besides  the  expiation  of  the  painter's  little  trespasses.  Dur- 
ing his  retreat  (which  must  have  been  a  long  one,  let  its 
cause  have  been  what  it  might)  Murillo  began  some  of 
his  choicest  works,  and  if  the  story  by  which  they  are  thus 
accounted  for  be  true,  it  will  be  seen  that  even  shrews  may 
sometimes  serve  a  profitable  purpose,  and  that  thus  there  is 
a  reasonable  hope  of  our  being  able  to  understand,  one  of 
these  days,  how  even  snakes  and  musquitos  have  their 
utility,  in  the  order  of  Providence. 

The  Virgin  of  the  Napkin  (la  Virjen  de  la  Servilleta)  is 
said,  in  the  same  legend,  to  have  been  painted  for  the  padre 
cotinero,  the  reverend  cook  of  the  Capuchins.  The  padre 
hinted  to  Murillo,  when  he  was  about  to  go,  that,  for  the 
many  favors  he  had  done  the  artist  in  his  line,  he  had  re- 
ceived no  fit  requital.  Murillo  yielded  to  the  force  of  the 
suggestion  and  replied,  that  if  the  cook  would  furnish  him  the 
canvas,  he  would  return  him  a  painting.  The  padre  seized 
a  dinner-napkin,  and  presented  it  forthwith.  A  few  days 
afterward,  he  found  the  charming  half-length  picture  in  his 
cell,  which  is  now  one  of  the  pearls  of  Andalusia.  The 
face  and  figure  of  the  Virgin  are  among  the  least  celestial 
of  Murillo's  religious  compositions,  but  the  expression  of  ten- 
derness and  motherly  solicitude  and  pride  can  not  be  sur- 
passed. The  child,  whose  face  resembles,  a  good  deal,  that 
of  the  infant  of  the  fair-haired  Madonna  in  the  Pitti  Palace, 

"  Leaps  up  in  his  mother's  arms," 

and,  with  one  hand  upon  her  bosom,  seems  actually  pressing 
himself  out  from  the  canvas.  The  first  effect  upon  you  is 
so  strong,  that  you,  involuntarily,  almost  stretch  out  your 


208  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

arms  toward  the  picture.  That  sort  of  illusion,  I  am  aware, 
is  often  produced  by  very  inferior  artists,  but,  in  this  case,  it 
is  the  combined  result  of  very  great  skill  and  infinite  at- 
tractiveness in  the  subject.  The  infantine  beauty  of  the 
attitude  and  expression  haunted  me  all  the  day  long.  The 
good  padre,  when  he  received  it,  is  said  to  have  asked 
Murillo,  why  he  had  painted  the  blessed  child  leaning  thus 
far  out  from  the  picture.  "He  must  needs  be  on  the  watch, 
father,"  was  the  reply,  "if  he  sees  you  all  observe  your 
vows."* 

I  have  not  time  to  describe  and  the  reader  would  hardly 
thank  me  for  enumerating,  merely,  even  the  chief  master- 
pieces of  Murillo,  that  are  collected  in  the  gallery  with  the 
"  Servilleta"  The  St.  Thomas  of  Villanueva,  which  the 
artist  is  reported  to  have  called  emphatically  "  his  own  pic- 
ture," will  probably,  on  that  account,  be  deemed  the  most 
interesting,  as  it  certainly  is,  in  itself,  one  of  the  most  won- 
derful in  the  collection.  I  confess,  however,  that  it  was  by 
no  means  the  most  attractive  to  me.  The  subject,  though 
affording  a  rare  opportunity  for  the  display  of  Murillo's 
greatest  power  of  drawing  and  imitation,  is  nevertheless  a 
very  unpleasant  one,  and  not  of  the  highest  order  as  a  con- 
ception. The  saint,  a  grand,  benevolent  figure,  is  giving 
alms.  Immediately  before  him,  with  his  back  toward  the 
spectator,  a  deformed  and  miserable  beggar  is  kneeling,  to 
receive  the  charity.  The  foreshortening  of  the  lower  limbs 
and  of  the  upturned  face — which  you  see,  partly,  though  the 
back  of  the  head  is  toward  you — is  absolutely  miraculous. 
On  the  right  are  an  old  man  and  woman.  You  can  scarcely 
persuade  yourself  they  are  not  portraits  of  two  trembling 

#  Bailly,  my  invaluable  cicerone,  complains  sadly  that  travelers 
repeat  his  stories  and  give  him  no  credit  for  them.  He  says  he  has 
made  the  best  parts  of  some  people's  books,  and  received  no  thanks. 
In  justice,  therefore,  I  feel  bound  to  say.  that  the  Capuchin  legend  is 
his,  and  I  hope  the  reader  will  believe  it  to  be  true.  Whether  he 
does  or  not,  Bailly  will  be  happy  to  tell  him  a  good  many  more. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  209 


wretches  who  begged  alms  of  you,  "  for  God's  sake,  brother," 
as  you  crossed  the  "plaza"  toward  the  Museum.  To  the 
left,  a  little  boy — one  of  the  hundreds  who  beset  you'  in 
your  daily  walks  in  Seville — is  showing  the  money  he  has 
just  received,  to  his  mother,  who  is  seated  by  him,  on  the 
earth.  He  leans  forward  over  her  lap,  smiling,  with  a  sort 
of  starved  delight,  at  the  obviously  unaccustomed  treasure. 
In  front,  and  near  to  the  chief  figure,  is  a  stunted,  ragged, 
scald-head  creature,  the  very  incarnation  of  wretchedness, 
disease,  and  want — so  true  and  yet  so  loathsome;  that  you 
are  tempted  to  rebel  against  the  painful  skill  which  has 
perpetuated  such  a  sickening  comment  on  humanity.  The 
antidote  however  is  not  far  off,  for  all  around  you  are 
beautiful  things,  not  only  warm  with  life  but  radiant  with 
inspiration — seeming,  many  of  them,  to  your  enthusiasm, 
as  if  they  realize  what  the  Andalusians  say  of  their  great 
artist — that  he  "had  seen  Heaven,  and  painted  what  he 
saw."* 

The  hospital  of  La  Caridad,  which  is  just  outside  one  of 
the  gates,  was  founded  or  rather,  re-established,  by  Murillo's 
friend  and  cotemporary,  Don  Miguel  de  Manara,  whose  simple 
grave-stone  lies  level  with  the  platform,  in  front  of  the  high 
altar  of  the  chapel.  He  was  a  man  whose  life  and  ample 
fortune  were  devoted,  altogether,  to  the  poor  and  destitute. 
"  He  gave*  them,"  says  his  epitaph,  "  whatever  he  had.  He 
was  the  visible  hand  of  a  hidden  Providence,  in  the  universal 
succor  of  the  necessitous."!  In  a  spirit  of  the  deepest  self- 
abasement,  he  commanded,  when  he  was  dying,  that  they 
should  bury  him  in  front  of  the  church  door,  so  that  he  might 
be  trodden  beneath  men's  feet  and  despised.  For  the  inscrip- 
tion, on  the  plain  slab  which  was  to  cover  him,  he  dictated 
these  humble  words  : 

*  Murillo  vio  al  aWo,  y  lo  pint6. 

t  "  Dioles  cuanto  tubo :"  says  the  nervous  and  expressive  original. 
"  Fu6  mano  vissible  de  la  oculta  Providencia,  en  el  universal  remedio  de 
necessitados" 


210  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

"D.'O.  M. 

Here  lie  the  bones  and  ashes  of  the  worst  man  there  has  been 

in  the  world. 
Pray  to  God  for  him."* 

The  fraternity  gave  but  a  literal  obedience  to  his  commands, 
for  they  speedily  removed  his  body  to  the  spot  where  it  now 
lies,  and  caused  the  epitaph  to  be  written,  that  now  justly 
commemorates  the  virtuous  labors  of  which  there  is  a  monu- 
ment in  every  thing  around. 

To  Manara,  Soult  was  especially  and  inexplicably  amiable, 
for  he  permitted  his  bones  to  rest  without  violation,  and  only 
stole  four  or  five  of  his  pictures.  Two  of  the  latter,  the  art- 
loving  marshal  peddled  away  in  England,  one — the  famous 
St.  Elizabeth  of  Hungary — returned  to  Spain,  but  was  cap- 
tured for  the  royal  gallery  of  Madrid.  To  the  other  two,  it 
is  believed  that  the  Marshal-Duke  still  manages  to  hold  fast, 
as  was  his  custom.  The  compositions  that  remain  at  the 
Caridad,  are  considered,  by  the  critics  generally,  as,  per- 
haps, the  finest  of  Murillo's  productions.  The  Miracle  of 
the  Loaves  and  Fishes,  and  the  Moses  cleaving  the  Rock, 
are  the  most  colossal  of  all  his  works,  and  are  too  well 
known,  among  those  who  have  read  any  thing  of  art,  to  re- 
quire even  the  brief  notice  I  could  take  of  them. 

The  most  interesting  of  the  collection,  however,  to  me,  is 
the  San  Juan  de  Dios.  It  represents  a  scene  in*the  life  of 
that  good  man  '(St.  John  of  God),  whose  charity  and  self- 
devotion  were  Mariara's  bright  examples.  It  is  a  night 
scene.  The  saint  was  passing  through  the  streets  at  mid- 
night, when  he  came  upon  a  wretched  mendicant,  who  lay 
almost  dead  with  starvation  and  disease.  To  lift  the  sufferer 
upon  his  shoulders,  was,  of  course,  the  good  man's  impulse, 
but  his  will  was  better  than  his  strength.  He  had  proceeded 
but  a  little  distance,  when  he  found  himself  unequal  to  his 

#  dqui  yazen  los  huessos  y  cenizas  del  peor  hombre  que  a  avido  en  el 

mundo. 
Rueguen  a  Dios  por  el. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  211 

task.  His  limbs  trembled  and  gave  way,  and  he  was  about 
sinking  to  the  earth  with  his  burden.  Of  a  sudden,  his  load 
was  lightened — his  strength  returned  to  him — and  looking 
backward,  he  found  himself  assisted  by  an  angel !  Murillo 
has  seized  the  moment  when  the  saint  first  turned  his  head. 
His  half-bent  form  seems  as  if  it  grew  erect  before  you.  The 
expression  of  his  up-turned  features,  is  a  mingling  of  reverence, 
surprise,  and  awe.  The  homely,  warm  humanity  that  glows 
upon  his  face,  is  the  very  perfection  of  contrast  to  the  radiant 
and  benignant  beauty  of  the  messenger  from  heaven.  His 
somber  habit,  with  its  cowl  and  dark  and  heavy  folds,  seems 
a  portion  of  the  midnight,  beside  the  glory  of  the  angel's  rai- 
ment. The  angel  has  just  alighted.  His  form  half  rests 
upon  the  air,  and  you  see  the  very  flutter  of  his  folding  wings. 
The  picture  is  in  daro-oscuro,  taking  its  light  altogether  from 
the  angel's  presence.  The  power  and  skill  with  which  its 
difficulties  are  made  beauties,  astonish  the  unlearned  not 
less  than  they  delight  the  critical.  The  hand  of  a  master 
has  helped  the  inspiration  of  a  poet,  and  it  would  not  be 
easy  to  conceive  a  more  sublime  or  touching  illustration  of 
the  sympathy  of  heaven  with  the  works  of  human  charity. 

The  altar-piece  is  by  Roldan.  It  is  an  Entombment  of 
the  Saviour,  done  in  relief,  and  in  the  same  style  as  the 
Descent  from  the  Cross,  by  the  same  artist,  which  is  the 
altar-piece  of  the  Sagrario  or  parish  church  attached  to  the 
Cathedral.  I  mention  them,  as  very  remarkable  specimens 
of  a  peculiar  style  of  sculpture,  said  by  some  to  be  found 
only  in  Spain,  though  existing,  as  I  have  heard,  in  some 
parts  of  Northern  Europe.  They  are  carved  in  wood,  and 
colored  to  life.  The  back-ground  is  painted  likewise.  The 
groups  are  fixed  in  planes  successively  receding,  and  the  fig- 
ures are  in  greater  or  less  relief,  according  to  the  exigencies 
of  the  composition.  It  is  impossible  to  form  an  idea  of  the 
effect  of  these  works,  from  any  product  of  the  chisel  that 
is  to  be  seen  elsewhere ;  for,  to  the  ordinary  capabilities  of 
sculpture,  they  add  every  illusion  within  the  compass  of  the 


212  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

sister  art,  and  a  truthfulness  of  perspective  which  neither 
marble  nor  canvas  can  command.  Standing  at  some  distance 
from  them,  you  seem  to  have  the  very  life  before  you.  You 
feel  as  if  you  had  broken  in  upon  the  solemn  ceremonies  they 
commemorate,  and  for  a  moment  you  restrain  your  steps  in 
awe.  Until  I  had  seen  these  works,  I  had  indulged  the 
common  and  very  sapient  contempt  for  colored  sculpture  : 
but  what  is  there  that  is  contemptible,  in  the  hands  of  a  man 
of  genius  ! 

The  Cathedral  has  many  admirable  works  of  Murillo,  which, 
however,  I  must  content  myself  with  wishing  that  the  reader 
may  have  the  good  fortune,  himself  to  see.  The  great  picture 
of  St.  Anthony  of  Padua  receiving  the  visit  of  the  infant  Jesus 
by  night,  in  his  cell,  hangs  in  the  Baptistery.  It  has  been 
compared,  more  frequently,  perhaps,  than  any  of  the  artist's 
pictures,  with  the  great  works  of  the  Italian  masters  ;  and 
there  are  critics,  of  no  mean  repute,  who  have  not  scrupled  to 
pronounce  it  as  contesting  the  palm  of  immortality  with  those 
that  have  been  held  most  perfect.  * c  Non  nostrum  tantas, ' '  &c. 
I  am  content  to  take  the  responsibility  of  a  more  unpretending 
selection.  In  a  little  chapel,  on  the  left  of  the  great  eastern 
portal  of  the  Cathedral,  there  is  a  picture  of  very  moderate  di- 
mensions, of  which,  except  at  certain  hours,  the  dim  light  affords 
you  only  an  imperfect  view.  The  chapel  is  that  of  the  Angel 
de  la  Guarda — the  Guardian  Angel.  The  picture  to  which  I 
refer,  is  the  altar-piece,  and  is  of  course  dedicated,  in  its  subject, 
to  the  patron  of  the  chapel.  It  was  painted  by  Murillo,  and  at 
the  time,  I  was  told,  when  he  was  sojourning  in  the  Capuchin 
Convent.  He  needed  a  screen,  in  the  warm  season,  before 
the  entrance  to  his  cell,  and  his  ready  brush  soon  furnished 
door  and  sentinel.  After  he  had  left  the  convent,  a  very 
natural  dispute  arose  among  the  brethren,  as  to  the  possession 
of  the  prize,  and  the  archbishop,  who  was  a  man  of  taste, 
settled  the  question,  by  removing  the  angel  to  the  Cathedral, 

The  belief,  that  every  man  has  by  his  side,  through  life, 
a  wise,  benignant  being  from  a  better  world,  unseen  but, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  213 

ever  watching  over  him,  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  beauti- 
ful and  attractive  in  the  whole  range  of  religious  consolations, 
whether  it  be  literally  or  figuratively  adopted.  To  consecrate 
an  altar  to  God,  in  special  commemoration  of  the  Providence 
which  walks  thus  closely  and  bountifully  in  our  midst,  must 
certainly  accord  with  the  grateful  impulses  of  every  one  who 
recognizes  the  truth,  or  feels  the  attractiveness  of  the  doc- 
trine. The  singular  and  simple  felicity  with  which  Murillo 
has  illustrated  it,  will  at  all  events  admit  of  no  controversy, 
and  the  painting,  as  contrasted  with  the  compositions  of  other 
masters  relating  to  the  same  subject,  conveys  so  distinct  an 
idea  of  Murillo's  peculiar  taste  and  genius,  that  the  reader 
will  perhaps  pardon  the  few  moments  for  which  I  shall 
dwell  on  it. 

In  the  Bourbon  Museum  at  Naples,  there  is  a  Guardian 
Angel,  a  famous  picture,  by  Dominichino.  It  represents  a 
splendid  and  heroic  spirit,  who,  in  the  concave  of  his  shield, 
which  rests  upon  the  earth,  is  sheltering  a  lovely  child  from 
the  fierce  onslaught  of  a  demon  on  the  outer  side.  The 
beauty  of  the  child,  and  the  bright  smile  of  conscious  safety 
which  is  just  driving  from  its  face  the  expression  of  natural 
dread,  are  quite  worthy  the  skill  and  fame  of  the  artist.  In 
the  long  gallery  of  the  Louvre,  there  is  a  painting  of  the 
same  subject,  by  Feti,  which  has  attracted  considerable 
admiration.  The  scene  is  laid  almost  at  the  gates  of  Hell, 
into  which  a  hideous  and  baffled  fiend  is  making  his  way, 
through  smoke  and  clouds.  The  angel  is  a  stalwart,  able- 
bodied  tutelary  :  quite  as  full  of  thews  and  sinews  as  of 
ichor,  and  he  stands  with  one  foot  on  the  earth,  while  with 
one  knee  he  rests  upon  a  cloud,  or  rock,  or  something  which 
may  be  either.  One  hand,  uplifted,  points  to  Heaven,  and  a 
youth,  with  folded  arms,  stands  by  his  side,  in  the  expressive 
attitude  of  Sunday-childhood,  enduring  an  explanation  of  its 
catechism. 

In  Murillo's  picture,  there  is  no  demon,  no  terror,  no 
struggle,  no  shield  or  weapon,  no  sign  of  force  protecting  or 


214  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

repelled.  A  little  child  is  walking  with  an  angel.  It  is 
not  one  of  your  Italian  angels — your  sublime  and  winged 
Apollos — nor  a  warlike  spirit,  wearing  his  radiance  and 
splendor  merely,  as  the  badges  of  his  mission — but  an  angel, 
in  the  stainlessness  and  perfect  purity  that  could  have  only 
come  from  Heaven.  He  is  a  guide  and  not  a  champion. 
The  child  is  beautiful,  of  course,  as  all  Murillo's  children 
are,  and  in  his  face  there  is  the  innocence,  which,  Words- 
worth tells  us,  is  but  the  memory  of  immortality.  Around 
his  tender  form  there  is  a  pure  white  robe,  half-cinctured 
and  floating  lightly.  The  angel,  with  his  left  hand,  gently 
grasps  the  little  arm,  and,  with  his  right,  points  upward,  to 
where  there  is  a  soft  and  dawn-like  brightness  in  the  sky. 
With  confident  and  upturned  eyes,  the  child  is  following  the 
spirit's  hand,  and  the  whole  sentiment  and  thought  and 
action  of  the  picture  thus  look  heavenward,  altogether. 
Buckler  and  sword  were  but  poor  melo-drame,  indeed,  and 
would  profane  the  blessed  presence  of  innocence  as  it  walks 
with  God  ! 

Mr.  Borrow  took  particular  note  of  this  picture,  which  he 
describes  as  that  which  always  wrought  on  him  the  most 
profound  impression,  though  it  is  one  of  the  least  celebrated 
of  Murillo's  works.  "  This  child,"  he  says,  "  is  in  my 
opinion  one  of  the  most  wonderful  of  all  the  creations  of 
Murillo  :  the  form  is  that  of  an  infant  of  about  five  years  of 
age,  and  the  expression  of  the  countenance  is  quite  infantine, 
but  the  tread — it  is  the  tread  of  a  conqueror,  of  a  God,  of 
the  Creator  of  the  universe  :  and  the  earthly  globe  appears 
to  tremble  beneath  its  majesty."  I  confess  I  did  not  derive 
the  same  impression  of  awe  from  the  composition,  but  that 
is  no  reason  why  it  should  not  be  a  correct  one.  I  must 
protest,  however,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  against  Mr.  Borrow's 
description  of  the  angel,  as  "  holding  a  flaming  sword  in  his 
right  hand."  If  he  had  said  "holding  a  harpoon,"  or  a 
"  blunderbuss,"  it  would  have  been  quite  as  accurate,  and 
quite  as  much  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the  picture. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Ferdinand  Columbus  —  His  Tomb — And  Works — The  Columbian 
Library — Relics  of  Ferdinand — Books  belonging  to  Christopher 
Columbus — His  Book  of  Prophecies — The  Sword  of  Garci  Perez 
— The  Lonja — Seville  Merchants  of  old — The  Archives  of  the 
Indies — Navarrete . 

IT  is  generally  and  gallantly  conceded,  that  few  things 
great  or  noble  have  happened  in  this  world,  without  the 
intervention  of  the  gentler  sex,  at  some  stage  or  other  of 
their  history.  It  is,  perhaps,  not  so  generally  known,  that 
the  fair  continent,  which  we  are  so  fast  appropriating  to  our- 
selves, was  discovered  as  much  under  the  influence  of  Venus 
as  of  any  other  of  the  bright  propitious  stars.  During  the 
long  years  of  tribulation  and  despair,  which  vexed  the  spirit 
of  Columbus  while  he  waited  the  termination  of  the  Moorish 
war,  he  meditated,  more  than  once,  departing  from  the 
realm  of  Spain  ;  but  he  had  chanced,  at  Cordova,  in  spite  of 
his  mathematics,  geography,  and  piety,  to  fall  into  Love's 
toils,  and  while  his  hopes  and  his  ambition  prompted  him 
to  seek  a  land  of  better  augury,  his  heart  had  treasures  of 
its  own  by  which  it  kept  him  moored.  "  Thus,"  says 
Martinez  de  la  Rosa,  who  relates  the  incident,  "  the  most 
august  events  depend  sometimes  on  little  causes.  Spain 
owes,  perhaps,  the  discovery  and  possession  of  a  new  world, 
to  the  bright  eyes  of  an  Andalusian  lady."  The  reflection 
might  be  carried  out,  by  insisting,  that  we  too  owe  the 
"  sublime  moral  spectacle"  of  California,  to  the  glances  of 
the  gentle  Beatriz  de  Enriquez  !  Columbus  himself,  at  all 
events,  might  count  that  soil  not  ingrate,  altogether,  which 
blessed  him  with  so  fair  a  maiden's  smile.  Unhappily  for 
her,  she  loved  him  rather  well  than  wisely,  for  the  benison 
of  Holy  Church  was  never  given  to  the  birth  of  the 


216  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

brave  boy  she  bore  him,  the  admiral's  most  famous  son, 
Fernando.  When  you  enter  the  great  western  portal  of  the 
Cathedral  of  Seville,  Fernando's  tomb  lies  just  before  you, 
level  with  the  pavement  of  the  nave.  It  is  of  simple  white 
marble,  and  in  the  form  of  a  large  cross.  The  upper  ex- 
tremity or  head  of  the  cross  has  a  Spanish,  the  lower,  a 
Latin  epitaph,  which  the  reader,  who  is  curious  in  such 
matters,  will  find  in  the  appendix  to  this  volume.*  On  each 
arm  of  the  cross,  there  is  a  quaint  caravel  engraved  in  shal- 
low lines.  These  are  odd  looking  vessels,  certainly,  accord- 
ing to  modern  notions  of  naval  architecture,  and  they  seem 
so  utterly  unfit  for  any  of  the  purposes  of  navigation,  that 
they  might  serve  as  models  for  our  government  transports  in 
the  next  Mexican  war.  From  each  of  the  high  poops  there 
hangs  a  most  prodigious  lantern.  Besides  oars  in  abund- 
ance, each  has  three  small  masts,  two  in  the  body,  one  in 
the  very  bow  of  the  vessel ;  and  each  mast  has  a  small 
lateen  sail.  Upon  the  deck  of  the  caravel,  to  the  right  as 
you  face  the  entrance,  are  two  soldiers,  with  firelocks  on 
their  shoulders.  On  board  the  other,  there  is  a  single  figure 
standing  before  two  that  are  seated,  which  last  have  on  their 
heads  grim  semblances  of  crowns.  Whether  their  majesties 
are  Indians,  or  the  Catholic  monarchs,  or  who  or  what  they 
are,  I  am  unable  to  divine,  but  if  the  standing  figure  be 
that  of  Columbus,  he  was  permitted  to  wear  his  hat  in  the 
presence  of  royalty.!  In  the  center  of  the  tomb,  between 
the  caravels,  there  is  an  ornamented  scroll  on  which  a  sort 
of  globe  is  cut,  or  rather  a  circle,  designed  to  represent  the 
western  hemisphere.  Around  and  outside  of  that  circle,  is 
the  famed  inscription,  known  better  out  of  Spain  perhaps, 
than  any  other  thing  within  its  borders — 

"  A  Castillo,  y  a  Leon 
Mundo  nuebo  dio  Colon." 

#  Appendix  I. 

t  In  the  edition  of  Mr.  Irving's  Columbus,  lately  published,  an 
engraving  of  one  of  the  caravels  will  be  found,  at  page  312  of  vol.  iii. 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  217 

I  was  particular  to  transcribe  it  carefully,  as  to  orthography 
and  all,  so  that  the  reader  may  depend  on  having  before  him 
the  genuine  article. 

After  looking  at  Fernando's  sepulcher,  it  is  natural  enough 
to  visit  the  "  Biblioteca  Colombina"  which  he  founded,  and 
which  is  alluded  to  in  one  of  the  epitaphs.  You  accordingly 
pass  through  the  cathedral,  and  making  your  exit  by  a  door 
in  the  northeastern,  corner,  you  find  yourself  in  what  is 
called  the  Patio  de  los  Naranjos — the  Court  of  Oranges, 
the  site  of  the  old  mosque,  a  spacious  and  beautiful  quadrangle, 
shaded  here  and  there  with  orange-trees.  Above  your  head, 
as  you  step  out  from  the  Cathedral  which  occupies  one  side, 
is  a  portion  of  the  building  used  for  the  Columbian  Library, 
and  resting  upon  columns.  On  the  opposite  side  is  the 
Sagrario,  the  parish  church,  attached  to  the  Cathedral. 
Over  against  the  Cathedral  are  some  relics  of  the  walls  of 
the  mosque,  through  which  you  may  pass  to  the  street,  be- 
neath the  superb  Moorish  archway,  called  la  Puerta  del 
Per  don — the  gate  of  Pardon. 

Pursuing  your  book-hunting  researches,  you  pass  from  the 
door  by  which  you  left  the  Cathedral,  to  a  stairway  within  a 
few  paces,  which  leads  you  to  the  library.  On  your  way  up, 
at  the  first  landing,  you  see  against  the  wall,  the  tomb  of 
Inigo  Mendoza,  the  chaplain  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  His 
effigy  is  said  to  be  the  work  of  Miguel  Florentin,  and  it  does 
small  credit  to  his  personal  beauty,  if  it  be  as  good  in  point 
of  resemblance  as  in  that  of  art.  He  was,  however,  if  his 
epitaph  is  to  be  believed,  a  good  priest  and  an  honest  man, 
who  "vixit  moriturus"  and  died  "semper  victurus"  In 
the  library  you  find  long  lines  of  presses,  neatly  and  carefully 
arranged  and  tended,  over  which  hang  portraits  of  the  arch- 
bishops from  time  immemorial,  kept  in  good  company  by  a 
Saint  Ferdinand  of  Murilio's.  The  volumes  number  some 
twenty  thousand,  but  they  are  mostly  of  the  times  gone  by 
— classical,  theological,  moral,  and  controversial — many  of 
them  rare  and  valuable,  but  unilluminated  by  the  discoveries, 

K 


218  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

and  unleavened,  for  good  or  for  evil,  by  the  spirit  of  these 
latter  days.  The  halls,  however,  are  somber,  still,  and 
student-like  ;  and  the  "  rime  of  eld"  they  have  upon  them 
is  the  last  thing  in  the  world  unwelcome  to  a  scholar's  taste. 
Around  the  tables  you  will  always  find  grave  groups  of  silent 
readers,  and  in  the  genial  spring-time — when  the  open  windows 
let  in  the  air  made  balmy  by  the  orange-blossoms,  and  the 
deep-toned  bells  of  the  Giralda,  high  above  you,  send  their 
solemn  music  down — you  must  be  graceless  and  unkind  indeed, 
not  to  remember  the  request  on  Don  Fernando' s  grave-stone, 
and  say  a  good  word  for  his  soul ! 

When  I  inquired  of  the  intelligent  and  courteous  librarian, 
for  any  relics  he  might  chance  to  have  of  the  illustrious 
founder's  personal  labors,  he  produced  to  me  an  index  of  all 
the  works  in  the  library  at  the  time  of  Don  Fernando's  de- 
cease, together  with  an  «  inventorio"  a  sort  of  catalogue 
raisonnee  of  the  same,  in.  four  solid  manuscript  volumes, 
prepared  by  his  own.  hand.  These  last,  I  take  to  be  the 
"quatro  libros"  mentioned  in  the  epitaph,  which  have  caused 
some  little  speculation  among  the  learned,'*  and  they  fur- 
nish no  small  evidence  of  Don  Fernando's  industry,  intel- 
ligence, and  patience.  They  are  now  sadly  out  of  order, 
though  the  librarian  seems  to  nurse  them  like  favored  chil- 
dren. Some  years  back,  one  of  the  volumes  managed  to  get 
soaked,  and  a  good  deal  of  the  learning  as  well  as  the  paper 
was  washed  out  of  it.  It  is  a  pity  that  time  and  accident 
should  have  dealt  so  hardly  with  them,  for  they  are  very 
curious  nowadays,  as  showing  what  was  a  learned  man's 
idea,  three  hundred  years  ago,  of  "all  the  books  of  all  the 
sciences." 

There  was  a  copy  of  Seneca's  Tragedies  also  shown  me, 
which  seems  to  have  been  a  favorite  work  of  Don  Fernando's, 
for  it  has  many  marginal  annotations,  in  his  handwriting. 
One,  especially,  is  very  interesting.  It  is  upon  the  famous 
passage  in  the  Medea,  which  Mr.  Irving  has  selected  as  the 
*  Appendix  I. 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  219 

appropriate  motto  to  his  Life  of  Columbus,  and  which  was 
held,  as  we  shall  see,  in  particular  esteem  by  the  great  navi- 
gator himself: — 

"  Venient  annis 
Secula  sen's,"  &c. 

Don  Fernando  has  inclosed  the  whole  passage  within  brack- 
ets, and  has  added  on  the  margin — "Hcec  prophetia  impleta, 
est  per  patrem  meum  Christopher um  Colon,  almirantem, 
anno  1492."— —(This  prophecy  was  fulfilled  by  my  father, 
Christopher  Columbus,  the  Admiral,  in  the  year  1492.) 

The  most  curious  and  interesting  thing,  however,  in  the 
whole  library,  to  those  who  belong  to  the  New  World  and 
should  prize  the  relics  of  its  discoverer,  are  two  rare  and 
ancient  books,  connected  closely  with  his  personal  history 
and  labors.  The  one  is  a  quarto,  containing  some  of  the 
learned  works  of  the  Cardinal  Petrus  de  Alyaco  and  the 
famous  John  Gerson,  and  was  obviously  one  of  the  admiral's 
most  constant  and  beloved  companions,  for  its  margins  are 
literally  covered  with  annotations,  in  his  own  handwriting 
and  that  of  his  brother  Bartholomew.  It  treats  of  geography, 
cosmography,  astrology,  theology,  and  matters  and  things  in 
general.  Fernando  Colon,  in  his  "  History  of  the  Admiral 
of  the  Indies,"  speaks  of  this  work  as  one  of  his  father's 
suggestive  authorities,  and  Las  Casas  refers  to  it,  even  more 
particularly,  in  the  same  light.  Indeed,  it  is  obvious,  from 
an  inspection  of  the  volume,  that  it  must  have  given  to 
Columbus,  or,  at  least,  have  developed  and  encouraged  in 
him,  many  of  the  theories  and  hopes  which  resulted  in  so 
much  glory.  Happily,  it  is  printed  very  well  and  is  in 
excellent  preservation,  so  that  it  may  yet  afford  much  op- 
portunity of  interesting  examination,  to  those  who  delight  in 
tracing  great  enterprises  back  to  their  remotest  sources. 

The  other  volume  is  a  dilapidated  manuscript,  which  con- 
tains the  collection  of  passages  made  by  the  Admiral,  with 
the  assistance  of  Fray  Gaspar  Gorricio,  a  Carthusian  monk 
of  Seville,  from  all  the  works  within  the  scope  of  his  reading, 


220  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

which  Seemed  to  him  to  indicate  or  prophesy  the  discovery 
of  America  and  the  redemption  of  Jerusalem  from  the  infi- 
dels. It  is,  of  course,  well  known,  that  the  influences  which 
bore  most  actively  upon  the  admiral's  enthusiastic  mind  and 
temper  were  deeply  religious  in  their  cast,  and  there  is, 
therefore,  matter  of  profoundest  interest  in  this  little  volume, 
which  illustrates  his  own  idea  of  his  destiny  and  the  divinity 
that  shaped  his  ends. 

Extracts  from  works  so  grave  and  learned  would  hardly 
tally  with  the  purposes  of  this  cursory  narrative,  but,  for  the 
satisfaction  of  the  lovers  of  Spanish  history,  I  have  given  a 
more  extended  notice,  in  the  Appendix,*  of  what  I  found  by 
no  means  the  least  interesting  investigations  made  during 
my  brief  travel. 

The  readers  of  the  Spanish  ballads  are  familiar  with 
the  two  exciting  stories  of  Count  Fern  an  Gonzalez  and 
Garci  Perez  de  Vargas,  two  doughty  heroes,  the  first  of 
whom  did  wonders  early  in  the  tenth  century,  while,  in 
the  middle  of  the  thirteenth,  the  other  was  foremost,  with 
St.  Ferdinand,  in  the  re-conquest  of  Seville.  It  seems  that 
the  good  sword,  with  which  Fernan  Gonzalez  won  renown, 
descended,  in  due  course,  to  Garci  Perez,  who  wielded  it, 
with  prowess  worthy  of  its  fame,  in  many  a  bloody  fray  ;  as 
witness  the  wonders  that  he  wrought  with  it  in  slaughtering 
the  seven  Moors  : 

"  Bare  was  his  head,  his  sword  was  red,  and  from  his  pommel  strung, 
Seven  turbans  green,  sore  hacked  I  ween,  before  Don  Garci  hung !" 

Among  the  treasures  (cedant  arma  ?)  in  which  the  Biblio- 
teca  Colombina  most  rejoices,  is  this  very  trenchant  weapon, 
found  in  the  coffin  of  Garci  Perez,  when  his  remains  were 
transported  to  their  splendid  resting-place  the  Royal  Chapel 
of  the  Cathedral.  The  blade,  between  three  and  four  feet 
long,  is  flexible  though  heavy,  and  is  made  to  cut  and  thrust. 
Upon  the  one  side,  a  helmet  is  engraved,  together  with  the 
*  Appendix  II. 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  221 

words  «  Del  Conde"  and  the  sacred  initials  "I.N.R.I." 
On  the  other  is  "  Fernan  Gonzalez,"  with  a  double  cross. 
The  ponderous  basket-hilt  was  evidently  made  to  serve  no 
purposes  of  holiday.  Painted  on  wood,  well  warped  but 
framed  as  something  precious,  they  show  you  with  the  sword 
an  ancient  "  redondilla"  which  makes  it  tell  its  story  thus  : 

"De  Fernan  Gonzalez  fui, 
De  quien  receui  el  valor, 
Y  no  le  adquiri  menor, 
De  wn,  Vargas,  a  quien  serui. 
Soy  la  octava  maravilla 
En  cortar  Moras  gargantas, 
No  sabre  io  decir  qiiantas,    ~ 
Mas  se  que  gane  a  Sevilla." 

meaning  literally, 

I  belonged  to  Fernan  Gonzalez, 

From  whom  I  received  my  value  (or  valor,) 

And  I  did  not  acquire  less 

From  a  Vargas,  whom  I  served. 

I  am  the  eighth  wonder 

In  cutting  Moorish  throats. 

I  know  not  how  many  to  say, 

But  I  know  that  I  gained  Seville. 

While  in  the  spirit  of  looking  after  relics  of  the  past,  we 
went  over  to  the  Lonja,  or  Consulado,  or  Casa  de  Contra- 
tacion  (for  it  is  known  by  all  of  these  names),  which  faces 
the  southern  transept  of  the  Cathedral.  This  stately  build- 
ing, though  badly  altered  in  more  modern  times,  is  a  monu- 
ment of  Herrera's  architectural  taste,  and  is  generally  sup- 
posed to  do  as  much  credit  to  the  liberality  of  Philip  II. 
The  inscription,  however,  which  is  over  the  northern  en- 
trance, informs  us,  very  candidly,  that  his  majesty  graciously 
"  commanded"  it  to  be  erected  «« at  the  expense  of  the  Col- 
lege of  Merchants."  It  was  designed  as  a  place  of  meet- 
ing for  the  traders  of  Seville,  and  for  the  negotiation  and 
solemnization  of  commercial  contracts.  Down  to  the  period 
of  its  erection,  the  men  of  traffic  in  the  fair  city  had  been, 
from  all  accounts,  a  graceless  and  perverted  set  of  mammon- 


222  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

worshipers.  The  Court  of  Oranges,  in  the  very  shadow  of 
the  Cathedral,  had  been  their  Rialto,  from  time  immemo- 
rial. They  held  'change  daily  on  the  gradas — the  capa- 
cious steps  and  terrace  around  the  sacred  edifice — and 
made  proclamation  of  their  auctions  and  judicial  sales,  even 
at  its  very  doors.  Nor  was  this  the  worst.  There  is, 
unhappily,  too  much  reason  to  know  that  many  of  their 
chafFerings  and  bargains  were  carried  on  and  made,  custom- 
arily, within  the  walls  of  the  sanctuary  itself.  In  the 
"  Colloquies"  of  the  "  magnifico  caballero,  Pedro  de  Me- 
jia"  published  as  late  as  1570,  and  quoted  in  the  "  Sevilla 
Pintoresca,"  the  magnificent  Peter  makes  a  certain  Bal- 
tasar  irreverently  say,  that  "  to  settle  his  accounts  with 
God  and  the  world  too,  it  seemed  a  man  was  forced  to  go 
into  the  Cathedral  once  a  day."*  Not  much  unlike  and 
quite  as  sinful,  was  the  London  custom  in  regard  to  old  St. 
Paul's,  the  nave  of  which  was  once  the  common  rendezvous 
for  fashion,  business,  politics,  and  vice.  "  I  bought  him  in 
Paul's,"  says  FalstafF,  of  his  rascal  Bardolph.  A  note  of 
Steevens,  on  the  passage,  gives  an  ancient  proverb,  which 
links  the  church  with  rather  sorry  company.  Some  char- 
itable Spanish  writers  have  endeavored  to  excuse  the  scan- 
dalous doings  of  their  ancestors,  by  attributing  them  to  the 
natural  wish  of  a  devout  and  simple  people,  that  their  cov- 
enants should  have  the  solemn  sanction  of  religion.  It  is, 
however,  to  be  feared  that  the  simplicity  which  this  implies 
has  never  been  fairly  attributable  to  the  class,  of  whom  the 
Son  of  Sirach  could  write,  even  in  his  time,  that  "  a  mer- 
chant shall  hardly  keep  himself  from  doing  wrong,  and  a 
huckster  shall  not  be  freed  from  sin."  In  a  commercial 
country  it  would  not,  of  course,  do,  to  say  that  the  practice 
of  the  Seville  traders  converted  the  house  of  prayer  into 
"  a  den  of  thieves  ;"  but  we  must  admit  that  it  approached 
sufficiently  near,  to  come  within  the  ban  against  the  buyers 

*  "  De  manera  que  para  lo  de  Dios  y  para  lo  del  mundo,  parece  que 
es  un  hombre  obligado  a  venir  a  esta  iglesia  una  vez  al  dia.n 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  223 

and  sellers  and  money-changers  in  the  temple.  So  thought, 
at  all  events,  that  excellent  and  pious  prelate,  Don  Cristo- 
bal de  Rojas,  archbishop  of  the  see,  on  whose  petition  -the 
king  directed  the  Lonja  to  be  built,  in  order  that  not  even 
the  pretext  of  necessity  might  be  set  up,  for  further  profana- 
tion of  the  holy  place. 

The  lower  apartments  of  the  Lonja  are  devoted  to  the 
uses  of  the  commercial  tribunals,  whose  occupation,  now, 
must  needs  have  almost  gone.  The  noble  staircase  leads 
you  to  the  second  floor,  where  are  the  "  Archives  of  the 
Indies,"  founded  in  1784,  and  containing  the  great  body  of 
the  records,  left  in  Spain,  relating  to  the  discovery  and 
administration  of  her  American  possessions.  Here  it  was 
that  Navarrete.  during  researches  painful  and  protracted, 
discovered  many  of  the  valuable  documents,  by  which, 
in  his  "  Coleccion  de  Viajes,"  he  .was  enabled  to  illus- 
trate, so  copiously  and  originally,  the  history  of  Columbus 
and  of  his  companions  and  successors  in  discovery.  The 
collection  is  an  immense  one,  truly,  and  requires  to  be  seen, 
if  one  would  appreciate  the  magnitude  of  Navarrete's  learned 
and  patriotic  labors.  The  rooms  devoted  to  the  "  Archives" 
occupy  three  sides  of  the  spacious  quadrangle,  and  the 
records,  themselves,  arranged  in  admirable  order,  fill  the 
large  presses  which  line  all  the  walls.  Future  historians 
will  find  their  toil  materially  lightened,  by  the  care  with 
which  the  documents  have  been  prepared  for  reference — an 
improvement  commenced  by  Navarrete,  and  carried  out  by 
his  learned  co-laborer,  Don  Agustin  Cean  Bermudez. 

At  the  extremity  of  the  first  apartment  you  enter,  hangs 
a  portrait  of  Columbus,  and  in  another  room  there  is  a 
picture,  said  to  have  been  taken  for  Hernan  Cortes.  As 
works  of  art  they  have  but  little  merit,  and  their  age  is 
perhaps  the  only  argument  in  favor  of  the  authenticity 
which  is  sometimes  ascribed  to  them.  In  the  chamber, 
from  whose  walls  Columbus  looks  so  grimly,  we  found  two 
officials,  busy,  at  the  time  of  our  visit.  They  readily  grant- 


224  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

ed  us  permission  to  go  through  the  rooms,  and  consigned  us, 
for  the  purpose,  to  a  person  of  much  gravity,  whom  we  took 
to  be  an  antiquarian,  from  physiognomy  as  well  as  associa- 
tion. Accordingly,  during  our  progress,  we  asked  leave  to 
look  at  some  of  the  old  manuscripts,  and  if  possible  at  one 
or  two  from  the  hands  of  Columbus.  To  our  surprise,  our 
conductor  informed  us  that  we  could  not  see  them.  "No," 
he  said,  "porque?  son  de  una  letra  muy  fea! — muy  mala!" 
(Why  did  we  wish  to  look  at  them  ?  They  were  in  a  very 
ugly  hand- writing — very  bad,  indeed  !)  We,  of  course, 
laughingly  insisted,  whereupon  he  opened  one  corner  of  a 
bundle  which  lay  upon  a  table,  and  pointing  to  some  ancient, 
half  obliterated  characters,  exclaimed  with  an  air  of  mingled 
triumph  and  commiseration,  "  Ya  ven  vmdes.  que  son  feos, 
feisimosf"  (There  now,  your  worships  see,  they  are  ugly, 
wretchedly  ugly  !)  It  was  hardly  worth  while  to  press  the 
matter  further  with  the  good  man,  who  so  obviously,  like 
the  oilman's  ass  in  Iriarte's  fable,  carried  oil  all  day,  and 
yet  had  no  light.  We  accordingly  bestowed  on  him  a 
peseta  for  his  guidance  and  safe-conduct  to  the  noble  terrace 
of  the  building,  from  which  we  had  a  charming  view  of 
town  and  country. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  Tobacco-factory — Pope  TJrban's  Bull  against  Tobacco — Pasquin's 
Reply  —  Public  Walks — Delicias — Spanish  Horsemen  —  Farriers — 
Necessity  of  Public  Walks  in  the  United  States. 

To  all  persons  of  well  regulated  minds  and  correct  moral 
principles,  tobacco  is,  or  at  least  ought  to  be,  a  nuisance 
every  where.  In  Spain,  as  in  France,  it  has  had  its  natu- 
rally bad  character  made  worse,  by  being  classed  among  the 
subjects  of  governmental  monopoly.  Whether  the  free  and 
enlightened  nose  of  "  la  jeune  France"  has  been  of  late,  or 
is  likely  to  be,  turned  up  at  the  Regie,  among  other  abomin- 
ations of  the  past,  I  have  not  learned  ;  but  the  system  cer- 
tainly deserves  to  be  looked  into  by  the  philosophers,  inasmuch 
as  it  has  the  doubly  ill  effect  of  disseminating  bad  cigars  and 
incorrect  notions  of  political  economy. 

The  Fabrica  de  Tabacos,  at  Seville,  is  said  to  be  the 
largest  building  in  Spain,  except  the  Escurial.  It  is  set 
down  in  the  books  as  measuring  six  hundred  and  sixty-two 
feet  in  length,  with  a  breadth  of  five  hundred  and  twenty- 
four.  It  certainly  is  huge  enough,  in  all  conscience,  and 
as  ill-looking  as  large,  having  been  designed  by  a  Dutch- 
man, among  whose  sesthetical  elements,  the  broad  and 
squat  occupied  their  national  predominance.  The  entrance 
is  adorned  by  busts  of  Columbus  and  Cortes,  who  deserve 
some  such  punishment,  for  their  instrumentality  in  poisoning 
mankind  with  the  pestilential  weed  in  question.  There  is 
a  moat  around  the  whole  establishment,  and  you  cross  a 
drawbridge  and  are  challenged  by  a  sentinel  as  you  enter. 
The  ground-floor  is  devoted  to  the  manufacture  of  snuff, 
and  the  preparation  of  all  the  boxes  and  appurtenances 
for  keeping,  storing,  and  transporting,  which  so  extensive  a 

K* 


226  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

concern  requires.  The  upper  story  is  occupied  by  the  cigar- 
factory.  The  Spaniards  are  so  benighted  and  backward 
in  civilization,  as  not  to  have  arrived,  yet,  at  the  tobacco- 
chewing  stage.  The  lower  courts,  stables,  and  snuff-factories 
seem  to  you  almost  infinite  in  number.  In  one  range  of 
apartments,  the  tobacco  is  at  soak  ;  in  another,  they  are 
stemming  it ;  in  another,  twisting  it ;  in  another,  they  let  it 
rest  from  its  labors  and  ferment,  until  (after  eight  months 
they  said)  it  has  become  duly  rotten  and  offensive.  On  the 
lower  floor,  none  but  male  laborers  are  employed.  The 
motive  power  is  supplied  by  large  numbers  of  mules,  which 
here  and  there  are  turning  a  primitive  sort  of  mill,  that  lets 
drop  certain  heavy  and  rude  choppers  on  the  tobacco  in  the 
troughs,  arid  so,  chop  !  chop  !  chop  !  it  goes,  from  coarse  to 
finer,  until  it  comes  out,  the  ultimate  bad  powder  which  is 
all  you  get  in  Spain.  "  Kentucky"  and  "  Virginia"  are  the 
principal  growths  in  requisition,  and  you  may  see  the  brands 
of  our  inspectors  at  home,  marking  the  fresh  supplies  as 
they  come  in.  "  Green  home  of  my  fathers  !"  says  Tom 
Moore,  as  the  ravishing  odor  of  the  punch  steals  over  him — 
"  green  home  of  my  fathers  !  I  smell  thee  here  !"  I  could 
have  wished  for  some  such  pleasant  incense  to  recall  my 
patriotic  memories,  in  lieu  of  the  stifling  atmosphere  of  this 
mundungus. 

Up-stairs,  you  enter  the  immense  apartments,  where, 
when  I  made  my  visit,  four  thousand  women  were  at  work ! 
The  manufacture  of  cigarritos,  or  small,  paper  cigars,  is 
carried  on  in  a  separate  chamber.  For  the  rest,  you  see 
long  lines  of  little  tables,  at  which,  rolling  and  twisting  the 
weed,  and  chattering  like  mad  the  while,  the  cigarrera  co- 
horts sit  and  toil.  They  looked  sallow  and  badly,  the  most 
of  them,  as  might  have  been  expected.  They  had  but  little 
beauty,  generally  (considering  that  we  were  in  Andalusia) 
and  were  not  remarkable  for  tidiness,  or  for  any  thing,  indeed, 
in  especial,  except  the  rapid  motion  of  their  tongues  and 
hands,  their  proverbial  sauciness,  and  the  careful  combing  and 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  227 

braiding  of  their  magnificent  black  hair.  Each  of  my  two 
English  companions  stuck  his  glass  among  the  wrinkles  of 
his  right  eye,  and  investigated  the  personal  appearance  of  the 
ladies,  like  a  Turk  in  a  slave-market.  The  fair-ones,  upon 
their  part,  took  revenge  in  certain  complimentary  observa- 
tions upon  "  Ingleses"  in  general  and  the  trespassers  in 
particular,  which  were  only  not  edifying  to  my  companions, 
because  of  their  ignorance  of  the  language.  Our  gay  little 
friend  of  the  ole  claimed  acquaintance  with  us,  as  we  passed 
her,  and,  but  for  her  fine  eyes  and  brow,  we  should  have 
hardly  recognized  the  May-queen  of  the  dancing-night,  in 
the  shabby  and  snuffy-looking  roller  of  the  weed. 

These  poor  creatures  receive  at  the  rate  of  a  real  (five 
cents)  for  making  a  bundle  of  fifty-one  cigars,  and  we  were 
told  by  our  conductress  (a  sort  of  tobacco  Juno  among  these 
celestials)  that  they  could  readily  make  eight  bundles  a  day. 
In  so  cheap  a  place  as  Seville,  such  wages  will  support  them 
comfortably,  and  pay  for  a  trifle  of  finery  besides.  Some  of 
them  carry  their  provisions  with  them  to  the  Fabrica  :  others 
buy  them  from  the  little  shops  which  are  kept  in  the  build- 
ing. Many  of  them  were  eating  their  garbanzos  from  the 
tobacco-tables  as  we  passed.  They  are  not  permitted  to 
leave  the  establishment  (nor  are  the  men)  from  the  com- 
mencement of  their  labors,  in  the  morning,  until  night  comes 
on.  They  then  go  through  a  regular,  and  as  report  runs,  a 
very  scrutinizing  search,  so  that,  except  in  some  rare  cases 
of  great  ingenuity  in  concealment,  there  is  probably,  for  once 
in  Spain,  but  very  little  smuggling. 

The  Sevillians  seem,  from  the  first,  to  have  been  sturdy 
devotees  of  tobacco — so  much  so,  as  to  have  introduced  it 
even  more  freely  into  their  churches  than  they  now  do  into 
their  houses.  The  priests  at  the  altar  and  the  faithful  on 
their  knees  comforted  themselves,  alike,  with  the  dirty  nar- 
cotic, so  that  a  man  needed  stomach  as  well  as  devotion,  to 
be  able  to  go  through  his  worship.  The  chapter  of  the 
Cathedral  complained  of  this  abomination  to  Pope  Urban 


228  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

VIII.,  who,  on  the  30th  of  January,  1642,  issued  his  Bull, 
"Cum  ecclesice"  &c.,  forbidding  the  practice  in  any  of  the 
churches  of  the  diocese,  under  penalty  of  excommunication. 
I  annex  a  copy  of  the  Bull,  in  the  Appendix,*  and  the  reader 
will  see  that  his  Holiness  had  abundant  reason  for  launching 
his  thunders  at  the  unclean  thing.  It  appears,  from  the 
language  used,  that  the  sinners,  in  that  day,  chewed  and 
smoked,  as  well  as  snuffed,  in  the  sanctuary,  and  that  clergy 
as  well  as  laity,  women  as  well  as  men,  participated  in  these 
"  actus  profani  et  indecentes."  It  was  taken,  "  ore,  vel 
naribus,  aut  fumo  per  tubulos" — by  the  mouth  and  nose,  or 
by  smoking  through  tubes.  It  was  "  solidum,"  and  also  cut 
into  plugs — "in  frusta  concisum" — which  must  have  been 
the  original  of  our  modern  "  short-cut ;"  and,  in  fine,  it  filled 
the  churches  with  a  shocking  odor,  ("  tetro  odore")  and  pol- 
luted the  very  linen  of  the  altar  !  Reasonable  enough  as  a 
prohibition  of  such  things  must,  by  the  veriest  heretic,  be 
admitted  to  have  been,  Pope  Urban  did  not  escape  the  per- 
secution of  his  sworn  foe,  Pasquin,  on  account  of  it.  On  the 
morning  after  the  promulgation  of  the  Bull,  there  appeared, 
on  Pasquin's  statue,  the  most  immortal  of  his  famous  say- 
ings. It  was  a  simple  quotation  from  the  Vulgate,  of  that 
magnificent  passage  from  Job,  which  sounds  so  feebly  in  the 
translation.  "Contra  folium,  quod  vento  rapitur,  ostendis 
potentiam  tuam,  et  stipulam  siccam  persequens  ?  "  "  Against 
a  leaf  that  is  carried  away  by  the  wind  dost  thou  show  thy 
power,  and  dost  thou  pursue  a  dry  straw  ?"f 

The  reader  will  not  object,  as  certainly  I  did  not,  to  a 
ramble  in  the  Delicias,  after  lingering  so  long  among  mat- 
ters so  unsavory.  This  charming  spot  was  intended,  by 
Arjona  (who  was  asistente  for  a  long  time,  under  Ferdinand 
VII.)  for  a  botanical  as  well  as  pleasure-garden,  and  has 

*  Appendix  III. 

t  The  version  from  the  Hebrew  is  more  noble,  but  less  literal. 
"  Wilt  thou  break  a  leaf  driven  to  and  fro  ?  and  wilt  thou  pursue  the 
dry  stubble  ?" 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  229 

been,  they  say,  of  much  service  as  a  nursery  of  valuable 
plants  for  distribution  through  the  country.  It  is  not,  now, 
as  well  cared  for  as  it  might  be,  but  it  has  received  the  addi- 
tion of  a  large  orange-orchard,  belonging,  I  was  told,  to  one 
of  the  suppressed  monasteries,  and  is  therefore,  still,  to  one 
from  colder  regions,  a  paradise  of  fragrance  and  verdure. 
Of  a  pleasant  afternoon,  you  may  go  out  at  the  Triana  gate, 
and,  turning  to  your  left,  which  takes  you  down  the  river- 
bank,  you  may  pass  through  as  beautiful  a  succession  of 
sweet  walks  as  the  known  world  can  show  you,  out  of 
Granada.  Long,  well  shaded  paths,  carry  you  past  the 
Golden  Tower  to  the  landing  place  of  the  steamers,  where 
a  cheerful  crowd  await  their  coming,  and  you  enter,  then, 
the  superb  "Salon  de  Cristina;"  a  beautiful  walk  encir- 
cled with  marble,  payed  with  broad  flags,  shaded  with 
the  most  graceful,  ornamental  trees,  and  with  its  cool  seats 
disposed  among  beds  of  flowers.  Passing  these  groves  and 
gardens,  you  lose  yourself  in  the  mazes  of  the  Delicias, 
which  extend  for  a  long  distance  down  the  bank,  covering 
a  large  space  in  width,  and  offering  you,  in  their  broad 
thoroughfares,  a  view  of  all  the  beauty  and  the  fashion, 
or  a  quiet,  meditative  walk,  in  their  long,  silent  alleys. 
Upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  is  Triana,  further  up, 
and  the  old  convent  of  the  Remedies  is  just  across  from 
you.  Fishermen  are  rowing  or  sailing,  up  and  down  the 
stream,  stretching  their  nets,  and  pleasure-boats  are  out, 
sporting  in  the  sunset-breeze.  As  the  cooler  hours  come  on, 
the  concourse  thickens.  Beautiful  women,  nothing  loth  to 
be  admired,  flutter  their  fans  before  them  as  you  pass.  Gay 
gallants,  here  and  there,  tell  stories  in  a  quiet  nook  to  dam- 
sels listening  willingly.  Handsome  equipages — horsemen, 
coachmen,  and  footmen,  if  you  like^are  all  about  you.  If 
you  prefer  the  paths  where  stroll  the  fair  pedestrians,  it  is  a 
free  country  (for  that  at  least)  and  no  man  hinders  you,  nor 
woman  neither.  M.  Gautier  says  that  the  women  of  Seville 
"  have  pointed  teeth,  which  resemble  in  whiteness  those  of 


230  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

young  Newfoundland  dogs,"  and  give  to  their  smile  (not  that 
of  the  dogs,  but  of  the  women)  a  mixture  of  the  "  Arabic  and 
savage,"  which  is  "  d'une  originalite  extreme  /"  I  am 
bound  to  bear  witness,  however,  that,  while  I  was  in  Seville, 
I  heard  of  no  case  of  female  hydrophobia,  nor  was  there  any 
occurrence  on  the  paseo,  during  my  many  walks  there,  which 
gave  the  slightest  ground  for  supposing  that  the  most  unpro- 
tected stranger  was  in  peril  of  being  barked  at,  or  bitten,  or 
otherwise  damnified,  except  in  the  due  course  of  ladies'  eyes. 
Spanish  horsemen,  among  the  mountains  and  on  the  road, 
are  dashing,  bold,  gallant  riders.  When  they  are  on  the 
paseo,  on  parade,  I  confess  I  do  not  admire  them.  They  all 
ride,  or  strive  to,  by  the  rules  of  the  menege,  and  this,  of 
course,  puts  natural  motion  out  of  the  question,  on  the  part  of 
man  and  beast.  The  horses  are  taught  to  turn  and  throw 
up  their  fore-feet,  very  absurdly,  so  that  you  may  always  see, 
and  almost  count,  the  nails  in  their  shoes,  when  they^are  at 
a  slow  pace.  Much  of  their  action  is  consequently  wasted 
on  the  air,  and  when  the  state  of  the  road  happens  to  suit, 
they  will  make  you  capital  mud-machines.  The  tail  is 
generally  tied  up  with  bright-colored  ribbons,  in  the  shape 
of  a  gentleman's  queue,  on  gala  occasions,  in  the  olden 
times.  A  bunch  of  scarlet  worsted  hangs  from  the  forelock, 
and  a  gorgeous  tassel  swings  below  the  throat-latch.  The 
saddle  is  high,  at  both  pommel  and  cantle,  with  huge  box- 
stirrups,  like  dismantled  shovels.  Every  one  uses  a  curb, 
long  and  strong  enough  to  pull  an  ox  down.  For  ordinary 
purposes,  such  as  the  snaffle  usually  serves  with  us,  they 
have  a  piece  of  iron,  sharply  indented,  which  presses  on  the 
bony  part  of  the  nose,  and  has  its  rein  attached,  independ- 
ently. The  grooms,  in  exercising,  often  use  this  nose-piece 
alone.  The  gentleman,  however,  when  on  the  paseo,  is 
rarely  without  the  whole  of  his  paraphernalia.  If  he  uses 
-the  English  saddle,  as  some  of  the  more  fashionable  occasion- 
ally do,  he  nevertheless  considers  it  "the  thing"  to  ride  with 
a  straight  knee  and  long  stirrup-leather.  The  most  accom- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  231 

plished  of  them  thus  look  like  mounted  compasses,  and  would 
stand,  I  think,  at  a  leap  or  in  a  hard  press,  about  as  much 
chance  of  keeping  their  seats.  They  used  to  laugh  at  me, 
for  my  insensibility  to  high  art,  in  equitation,  but  I  could 
never  avoid  returning  the  compliment,  when  I  saw  a  gallant 
cavalier,  keeping  a  straight  leg  on  the  side  next  the  ladies, 
and  spurring  unmercifully  on  the  other — the  unhappy  nag, 
meanwhile,  fretting  and  curveting  and  dancing  beneath  the 
curb,  like  a  learned  circus-horse  telling  fortunes  at  cards. 

The  Andalusian  horses  are,  many  of  them,  of  fine  size 
and  great  beauty.  They  have  not  the  clean  and  bony  limbs, 
the  high,  sharp  withers  and  delicate  heads  and  necks,  which 
are  the  characteristics  of  the  English  and  American  thorough- 
breds. Their  limbs  are  rounder  and  more  beautiful,  with 
greater  breadth  of  chest,  and  they  have  a  peculiar  pride  and 
style  in  their  whole  carriage.  They  are  exceedingly  docile 
and  good  tempered,  which  is  saying  a  good  deal,  when  we 
consider  the  farriery  to  which  they  are  exposed  from  colt- 
hood.  The  smiths  and  horse-fanciers,  generally,  in  Andalu- 
sia, are  gipsies,  who  are  not  remarkable  for  either  humanity 
or  theoretical  knowledge  of  horse-flesh.  I  remember  to  have 
seen  a  poor  beast,  in  Malaga,  go  through  the.  operation  of 
shoeing,  and  the  style  in  which  the  thing  was  done  may 
give  the  reader  some  ideas  that  are  new,  in  regard  to  an  old 
subject.  The  horse  was  hitched,  by  the  reins,  to  a  hook  in 
a  wall.  The  hind  leg,  to  be  operated  on,  was  put  in  a  sling 
— in  other  words — was  tied  up  to  the  tail.  Smith  then 
commenced  scraping,  in  such  an  unscientific  and  uncomfort- 
able manner,  that  even  the  animal's  patience  waxed  low, 
and  he  began  to  jump  about,  on  three  legs,  as  might  have 
been  naturally  expected.  Smith,  incontinently,  disappeared 
and  returned  with  a  sedative  in  the  shape  of  a  big  stick, 
which  he  applied  lustily  to  the  sufferer's  head  and  ribs. 
Having  thus  done  all  in  his  power  to  produce  quiet,  he 
twitched  the  upper  lip  with  a  cord  at  the  end  of  his  club, 
and  having  twisted  and  jerked  it  until  he  had  produced  the 


232  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

proper  amount  of  sensibility,  fastened  the  club-end  in  the 
throat-latch.  By  this  time,  the  horse's  agony  being  obvi- 
ously extreme,  he  permitted  his  hoofs  to  be  gouged  ad  libi- 
tum, wincing,  only  occasionally  and  in  the  most  subdued  and 
delicate  manner,  when  the  iron  entered  the  quick.  Smith's 
assistant,  in  the  mean  time  (for  it  takes  two  of  them),  stood 
out  of  reach  of  heels  and  did  the  necessary  swearing.  If  I 
could  have  given  the  kicks  a  proper  direction,  it  is  likely 
the  professors  would  have  received  their  reward.  The  by- 
standers, however,  seemed  to  think  it  was  very  fine,  and 
one,  to  whom  I  made  bold  to  express  my  wrath,  shrugged 
his  shoulders  resignedly,  and  said,  "  asi  se  hace" — that's  the 
way  it's  done  !  I  do  not  pretend  to  say  that  it  is  always 
done  in  that  way,  and  yet  if  I  were,  the  horses  might 
endorse  my  veracity. 

The  crowd  in  the  Delicias  grows  rapidly  thin  as  night 
comes  on,  and  one  who  lingers  to  enjoy  the  moonlight  is 
apt  to  find  himself  alone.  On  one  especial  evening,  I  re- 
member to  have  been  the  last  of  all  the  wanderers.  The 
moon,  as  I  strayed  homeward,  hung  her  slender  curve  low 
down  over  the  hills  above  San  Juan  de  Alfarache,  and  there 
was  just  light  enough  to  see  the  outline  of  the  Tower  of 
Gold,  the  convent  spires  on  the  Triana  side,  and  the  vessels 
that  were  anchored,  or  slowly  glided  up  and  down  the 
river.  Farther  up,  they  had  kindled  a  fire  upon  the  oppo- 
site bank,  which  illuminated  the  buildings  and  the  craft  im- 
mediately around  it ;  but,  save  that  and  the  few  twinkling 
lights  in  the  boats,  the  moon  and  stars  had  it  all  to  them- 
selves. A  solitary  palm-tree,  which  the  observant  traveler 
will  remember,  as  a  beautiful  and  conspicuous  ornament  of 
the  plain  toward  the  west,  seemed  to  loom  up,  in  silvery 
relief,  against  the  deepening  sky.  I  saw,  or  fancied  I  could 
see,  distinctly,  the  gentle  motion  of  its  foliage,  as  it  answer- 
ed the  whisper  of  the  low,  soft  breeze.  When  I  reached 
the  Salon  de  Cristina,  I  found  it  deserted,  save  by  two  or 
three  well-cloaked,  mysterious-looking  figures,  bent  on  love 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  233 

or  other  mischief.  The  sentinel,  as  I  passed  in  at  the  gate, 
seemed,  indeed,  to  have  suspicions  that  I  was  myself  en- 
gaged in  something  less  innocent  than  listening  to  the  ripple 
of  the  Guadalquivir. 

How  it  is  to  he  deplored  that  some  of  our  many  patriotic 
fellow-citizens  should  not  take  it  into  their  heads  that  "  po- 
litical capital"  is  to  be  made  out  of  a  grand  national  system 
of  public  walks  !  I  submit  that  a  great  deal  of  eloquence 
might  be  profitably  employed,  in  "  preparing  the  heart  of 
the  people"  for  such  a  project.  Go  where  you  may  in 
Europe- — and  especially  in  Spain — there  is  provision  al- 
ways made  for  giving  fresh  air  at  least  (if  not  bread)  to  the 
public  mouth.  Crowded  as  their  cities  may  be  with  an 
over-teeming  population — pressed  as  they  must  be  for  space 
above  all  things — they  will  have  public  squares  and  prom- 
enades, at  all  events,  though  they  be  forced  to  build  their 
houses  ten  stories  high  for  room.  On  Sundays  and  holi- 
days, and  as  the  hour  of  daily  rest  draws  nigh,  the  tired 
artisan  comes  from  his  workshop ;  the  man  of  toil,  of  all 
sorts,  has  his  prescriptive  leisure,  and  his  opportunity  to 
escape  awhile  the  noxious  atmosphere  he  delves  in.  Rich 
and  poor,  gentle  and  simple,  mix  in  the  throng  together  ; 
and  government,  forgetful  of  so  many  of  its  duties  there,  is 
forced  to  be  mindful  of  providing  and  maintaining  the  space, 
and  shade,  and  flowers,  which,  even  if  they  were  not  vital 
to  the  public  health,  would  be  insisted  on  for  the  public 
pleasure.  In  our  beloved  country,  however,  where,  if  we 
have  any  thing  to  spare  besides  patriotism,  it  must  certainly 
be  land,  it  seems  our  effort,  and  a  sort  of  principle,  to  build 
the  air  as  much  as  possible  out  of  our  lungs.  Streets  we 
have  in  abundance ;  lanes  and  alleys  of  all  sorts  and  de- 
scriptions ;  together  with  public  servants  abundantly  willing 
to  take  charge  of  and  govern  the  same,  at  the  legal  rates  of 
compensation.  Occasionally,  a  beneficent  proprietor  in  one 
of  our  large  cities,  who  has  good  building-lots  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, will  endow  the  corporation  with  a  small  odd  corner 


234  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

of  his  domain,  as  a  public  "  square,"  though,  in  all  prob- 
ability, it  is  a  triangle  or  a  mysterious-looking  polygon. 
Straightway  the  donor's  liberality  will  be  published  in  all 
the  "  local  news"  of  the  day — the  gift  will  be  fenced  in — 
the  gate  locked — a  "  keeper"  appointed  to  see  that  it  remain 
so — and  the  public  allowed  to  look  through  the  paling,  at 
the  refreshing  and  lively  spectacle  of  two  rows  of  trans- 
planted saplings,  doomed  to  early  and  certain  death  !  But 
squares,  and  parks,  and  walks,  such  as  deserve  the  name  ; 
where  the  fresh  pure  air  of  the  country  is  breathed  into  the 
bosom  of  the  town ;  where  childhood  may  frolic  and  gain 
strength  ;  the  sick  inhale  new  life  and  vigor ;  the  poor,  the 
wretched,  and  the  toil-worn,  renew  their  wasted  energies 
for  next  day's  struggle  ;  where  are  they  with  us  ?  Is  there 
any  thing  better  deserving  the  care  of  a  popular  govern- 
ment ? — more  properly  within  the  sphere  of  the  state  ? — 
better  worth  spending  the  public  money  for  ?  It  is  consti- 
tutional to  make  railroads  and  canals,  tow-boats  and  bridges 
— nay,  more,  to  go  in  debt  for  them,  and  trust  to  luck  to 
get  out.  Why  not  venture  a  little,  then,  for  health,  and 
vigor,  and  life  ? 

We  love  the  people,  'do  we  not  ?  Read  our  newspapers 
and  our  speeches.  They  all  say  that  we  do,  and  they  say 
it  in  print,  and  it  must  be  true,  Improve  the  people's  air 
then,  ye  men  of  state  municipal !  It  is  the  best  of  curren- 
cies that  you  can  give  them.  Make  their  cheeks  ruddy 
with  fresh  health — put  strength  into  their  limbs,  and  life 
into  their  veins  !  Let  the  Constitution  alone,  and  improve 
constitutions  !  Give  men  the  chance  of  simple,  natural 
enjoyment,  and  they  will  seek  it,  in  preference  to  the  un- 
natural excitement  that  corrupts  and  slays.  If  you  would 
have  the  laborer  to  shun  the  grog-shop,  give  him  some 
other  place  where  he  may  be  healthily  and  innocently 
merry.  Let  him  see  the  world,  and  let  the  world  see  him, 
in  his  enjoyments.  Bring  people  together  often,  and  in 
public,  men  and  women — wealthy  and  needy — on  common, 


GLIMPSES  OP  SPAIN.  235 

equal  ground,  and  with  the  common  purpose  of  health  and 
harmless  recreation  !  They  will  not  love  each  other  less, 
depend  on  it,  than  they  do  now,  when  every  man  pays  far 
what  pleasure  he  has,  and  he  who  has  nothing  to  pay  has 
none.  Morals  and  manners  and  the  smaller  charities  will 
thrive  the  better,  you  may  rest  assured,  when  citizen  meets 
citizen,  where  trade  comes  not  and  politics  will  hold  their 
peace ! 

It  is  an  odd  thing,  really,  that  the  only  truly  popular 
government  in  the  world,  should  be  almost  the  only  one 
where  the  government  does  nothing  to  furnish  enjoyments  to 
the  people.  Think  of  it  then,  ye  aldermen,  or  common 
council-men,  or  select-men,  or  by  whatever  name  ye  go  ! 
Bear  these  things  in  mind  when  you  are  laboring  to  legislate. 
If  you  should  think  them  idle,  or,  what  is  worse,  expensive — 
go  your  ways — enjoy  your  opinions  and  salaries.  In  my 
humble  judgment,  however,  in  such  case,  you  might  profit- 
ably send  a  commission  of  your  wisest,  on  a  donkey-ride 
through  the  poorest  hamlets  of  Spain,  to  learn  civilization 
and  come  back  and  teach  you  ! 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Propensity  of  Travelers  to  climb  high  Places — The  Giralda — The 
Bell-ringer,  his  Daughter,  and  the  Hawks — The  Andaluz  and 
the  English — The  Cathedral — Its  Magnificence  and  Beauty — The 
Royal  Chapel — The  Virjen  de  la  Antigua — High  Mass  and  Music 
— The  Galleries — The  Battle-pieces  and  the  Hawks. 

THE  properties  of  bodies  in  motion,  are  often  quite  differ- 
ent from  those  of  the  same  bodies  at  rest.  Take  a  worthy 
citizen,  for  instance,  who  has  lived  his  two-score  years,  more 
or  less,  at  home.  There  may  be  as  many  steeples  and  towers 
and  high  places  as  you  please  about  him — it  is  ten  to  one 
it  will  never  enter  his  head  to  climb  to  the  top  of  any  of 
them.  Start  the  same  individual  upon  a  journey,  and  if 
there  is  a  dome  in  any  town  he  visits,  which  can  only  be 
ascended,  in  steepness,  tribulation,  and  weariness  of  legs  :  if 
there  is  a  mountain,  and  especially  a  volcano,  within  fifty 
miles  of  him,  to  the  summit  of  which  he  can  only  toil  through 
snow  and  cinders  ;  it  is  a  miracle  if  you  do  not  find  him  at 
the  top  of  dome  and  mountain,  before  he  has  seen  half  the 
beauties  and  wonders  of  plain  or  valley.  The  windows  of 
the  print-shops  in  Naples  are  filled  with  caricatures  of  people 
ascending  and  descending  Vesuvius,  but  never  a  native  do 
you  see  depicted  in  any  of  them,  unless  he  be  a  guide,  or  a 
donkey,  or  some  other  professional  character,  who  is  doing 
the  thing  for  hire.  It  is  "  questi  Inglesi"  (as  travelers  are 
generally  called),  who  figure  principally  in  them,  in  the 
shape  of  fat  ladies  and  gentlemen,  all  be-smoked  at  the 
crater,  or  tumbling  and  sliding  down  the  precipices.  Your 
sensible  Neapolitan  knows  the  pleasures  of  level  ground,  and 
never  leaves  it,  except  for  money. 

Before  I  arrived  at  Seville,  I  had  done  my  share  of 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  237 

climbing,  as  became  a  traveler  of  an  inquiring  mind,  and 
I  felt  a  sort  of  obligation  not  to  neglect  the  Giralda,  the 
famous  Moorish  tower  attached  to  the  Cathedral.  The 
reader  of  course  knows  all  about  this  remarkable  struc- 
ture, for  it  figures  conspicuously  in  the  prints  of  Spanish 
scenery  and  architecture,  and  is  certainly  one  of  the  finest 
specimens  of  its  sort  in  Europe.  It  is  three  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  high,  and  fifty  feet  square;  the  Moorish  portion, 
which  is  of  brick,  to  the  height  of  two  hundred  and  fifty 
feet,  being  exquisitely  ornamented  with  the  most  graceful 
patterns  in  Arabesque,  and  broken  here  and  there  in  its  out- 
line by  light-arched  windows,  with  delicate  columns  of  white 
marble  and  charming  little  balconies.  The  upper  part, 
which  serves  the  purposes  of  clock-tower  and  belfry,  was  the 
work  of  a  Christian  artist,  and  is  of  gorgeous  beauty.  Upon 
the  summit  there  is  a  gigantic  weather-cock  in  bronze,  meant 
as  a  statue  of  Faith.  Some  evil-disposed  persons  have  con- 
sidered it  quite  inappropriate,  to  represent  that  Christian 
quality  as  so  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  every  wind  of  doctrine. 
The  good  people,  however,  who  did  the  work,  probably 
knew  what  they  were  about,  and  considered  that  they  did 
no  injustice  to  Faith,  when  they  made  her  the  same  in 
storm  and  sunshine  and  in  every  wind  that  blows.  The 
Giralda  is  said  to  rest  upon  the  ruins  of  certain  Roman 
edifices,  which  were  demolished  for  the  purpose.  It  is  be- 
lieved, however,  that  the  only  foundation  for  this  is  the 
propensity  of  some  people,  to  have  the  Romans  or  the  Greeks 
at  the  bottom  of  every  thing. 

You  enter  the  tower,  stooping,  through  a  low,  small  door, 
upon  the  very  ground.  There  is  a  family  residing  in  this 
part  of  the  building,  and  they  not  only  take  four  citartos 
(two  cents)  from  you,  in  the  way  of  toll,  but  compel  you, 
sometimes,  to  pay  an  olfactory  tribute  to  an  especially  culi- 
nary atmosphere.  The  ascent  is  by  a  series  of  inclined 
planes,  so  gradual  and  gentle,  that  you  reach  the  top  of  the 
Moorish  structure  without  the  slightest  fatigue.  Indeed,  if 


238  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

you  could  get  your  horse  through  the  entrance,  you  could 
ride  up  with  great  ease.  On  the  summit  of  the  square  tower, 
the  bell-ringer  and  his  family  reside,  in  reasonable  comfort. 
They  have,  of  course,  no  very  great  abundance  of  society, 
unless  they  find  it  in  the  visits  of  a  screaming  colony  of 
hawks,  which  dwell  still  higher  up,  under  the  wings  of  Faith. 
Like  condescending  great  people,  however,  these  denizens  of 
the  upper  circles  are  constantly  wheeling  down  and  flutter- 
ing about  the  habitation  of  the  bell-ringer,  seeming  to  be  on 
friendly  and  familiar  terms  with  him  and  his  progeny.  Our 
fair  friend,  the  dancing  campanera,  was,  we  found,  the  gem 
of  the  poor  fellow's  collection,  for  he  and  his  spouse  and  all 
the  rest  of  them  were  lean  and  spare  enough,  and  looked  as 
if  they  lived  on  thin  air,  mostly.  The  old  man  was  a  civil 
and  kindly  creature,  however,  and  showed  us  his  thirty  bells 
and  his  fine  clock,  with  an  alacrity  that  would  have  graced 
a  man  of  better  substance. 

The  Sevillians  are  proud,  as  they  have  a  right  to  be,  of  the 
Giralda,  and  many  stories  are  told,  of  the  jealous  care  with 
which  they  insist  on  its  receiving  the  admiration  of  all  trav- 
elers. The  most  current  anecdote  is  of  the  Andaluz,  who 
saw  a  foreigner  gazing  at  the  tower  with  delighted  eyes. 
"Does  your  worship  like  it?"  he  inquired.  "Very  much," 
was  the  reply.  "  I'm  very  glad  you  do,  for  it  wasn't  made 
in  Paris!"  When  I  went  up,  a  stout,  fine-looking  fellow, 
in  full  majo  costume,  was  escorting  two  buxom  damsels  in 
the  same  direction.  One  of  the  ladies  chanced  to  travel 
faster  than  her  companions,  by  means  of  which  it  happened 
that  she  overtook  me.  It  being  "  the  custom  of  the  country," 
which  it  behoves  all  reasonable  travelers  to  follow,  I  offered 
the  lady  my  services,  and  we  were  on  very  sociable  terms 
before  we  had  reached  the  bell-ringer's  air-castle.  This,  of 
course,  gave  me  an  introduction  to  the  rest  of  the  party 
when  they  came  up  afterward,  and  the  majo  took  a  good 
deal  of  interest  in  answering  my  questions  satisfactorily,  and 
pointing  out  the  principal  objects  in  the  boundless  landscape 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  239 

around  us.  When  I  was  about  to  go,  he  looked  at  me,  with 
a  perplexed  smile,  and,  in  the  choicest  Andalusian,  said,  "It's 
a  wonder,  sir,  you  haven't  your  pencil  and  your  little  book 
in  hand  !" 

"  What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Why,  you  are  an  Englishman,  and  there  is  no  English- 
man who  goes  any  where  without  taking  notes." 

I  told  him  I  was  no  Englishman,  and  set  him  to  guessing 
my  whereabouts.  When  his  geography  had  completely  failed 
him,  I  told  him  that  I  was  a  North  American.  His  coun- 
tenance immediately  cleared  up,  and  he  exclaimed,  like  a 
man  who  had  fathomed  a  mystery  unexpectedly — 

"  That  explains  it!  Englishman  you  couldn't  be,  without 
the  notes,  and  that  was  puzzling  me,  seeing  that  you  had 
light  hair,  and  didn't  take  out  your  book." — ("Vaya  zenor ! 
que  ezo  lo  ezplica!  Inglez  era  impozible  fueze  vmd.,  zin 
loz  apuntez :  y  ezo  me  eztaba  faztidiando,  viendo  que  era 
vmd.  rubio  y  no  zacaba  el  librito  /") 

If  he  had  seen  me  a  few  moments  after,  with  both  book  and 
pencil,  at  the  tomb  of  Ferdinand  Columbus,  he  would  possibly 
have  put  more  trust  in  my  complexion  than  my  veracity. 

The  Cathedral  of  Seville,  seen  from  without,  rather  dis- 
appointed me.  It  has  no  spires  of  any  striking  elevation, 
and  its  fine  details  look  older  and  more  crumbled  than  the 
real  antiquity  of  the  building  would  seem  to  warrant.  It  is 
encumbered,  besides,  by  the  huge  incongruous  Sagrario,  and 
the  scarcely  less  heterogeneous  chapter-house  and  chapel  of  St. 
Ferdinand,  so  that  its  coup  d'ceil  is  very  much  impaired,  and 
the  space  that  it  covers  seems  greatly  disproportioned  to  its 
height.  But  all  feeling  of  disappointment  vanished  at  the 
first  glimpse  of  the  glorious  interior.  I  have  seen  the  great 
churches  of  Italy  and  Normandy  and  the  most  famous  of 
the  English  Minsters,  but  it  is  without  any  hesitation  of  my 
humble  judgment  that  I  place  the  Seville  Cathedral  above 
them  all,  in  that  peculiar  solemnity  of  grandeur,  which  makes 
the  Gothic  the  architecture  of  religion.  I  do  not  speak  of 


240  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

size,  or  ornament,  or  style,  or  any  separate  and  special  char- 
acteristic, but  of  the  mingling  of  all  things  that  produce  a 
sense  of  appropriateness  and  awe. 

Figures  do  very  little  toward  conveying  an  idea  of  an 
edifice,  but  I  feel  bound  to  let  the  reader  have  a  few  of 
them,  so  that  he  may  judge  whether  my  enthusiasm  has  not 
some  loops  to  hang  on.  The  Cathedral,  within  the  walls, 
has  a  length  of  three  hundred  and  ninety-eight  feet,  and  a 
breadth  of  two  hundred  and  ninety-one.  It  is  divided  into  a 
nave,  four  aisles  that  are  open,  and  two  which  form  the 
chapels  of  the  sides.  The  nave  is  fifty-nine  feet  broad,  and 
one  hundred  and  thirty-nine  feet  high,  except  immediately 
over  the  high  altar,  where  the  cimborio  or  transept-dome 
increases  the  elevation  to  an  hundred  and  forty-five  feet. 
The  aisles  are  equal  in  dimensions,  and  are  divided  only  by 
rows  of  columns.  Their  breadth  is  forty  feet  and  their 
height  ninety  six.  There  are  thirty-six  gigantic  piers,  of 
fifteen  feet  diameter,  each,  rising  from  floor  to  roof.  They 
are  made  up  of  graceful  clustered  shafts,  and  support  no 
less  than  eight-and-sixty  arches  of  the  loftiest  and  boldest 
span.  Every  thing  you  see  is  made  of  massive  stone,  the 
rich  brown  hue  of  which  finds  beautiful  relief  in  the  white 
and  black  marble  of  the  checkered  pavement.  Ninety -three 
stained  windows,  the  best  works  of  the  best  Flemish  artists  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  give  to  the  edifice  the  light,  alternately 
subdued  and  gorgeous,  which  covers  every  thing  with  splen- 
dor. There  are  nine  entrances  to  the  Cathedral,  and  they 
are  never  closed,  so  that  at  whatever  hour  the  spirit  of 
penitence  or  thankfulness  may  come  upon  a  man,  he  never 
lacks  an  altar  before  which  to  pour  it  forth.  Mr.  Ford 
adverts,  with  great  propriety  and  force  of  observation,  to  this 
freedom  of  access  which  is  peculiar  to  the  Spanish  churches. 
It  would  not,  indeed,  be  easy  to  exaggerate,  it  seems  to  me, 
the  value  of  a  custom,  which  leaves  the  way  thus  always 
open  to  the  House  of  God.  Pride,  human  respect,  a  thou- 
sand motives  unholy  and  unworthy,  may  attract  the  worst 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  241 

and  vilest  to  the  public  stated  service :  while  sorrow,  poverty, 
and  shame  may  drive  away  from  public  observation,  those 
who  need  the  consolations  of  religion  most.  How  meet  it  is 
then,  that  there  should  be,  always,  a  place  of  refuge  open  to 
the  desolate  !  How  wise  and  just,  that  all  facility  should  bo 
afforded  for  that  humble,  unobtrusive  worship,  which  cares 
not  to  be  seen  of  men  !  The  grand  cathedrals  of  the  middle 
ages  might  well  be  called  mere  monuments  of  vanity  and 
superstition,  were  they  opened  only  for  a  few  hours  in  the 
week,  that  well-dressed  piety  might  enter  and  be  briefly  and 
respectably  devout.  But  when,  by  night  and  by  day,  at  all 
seasons  and  under  all  circumstances,  they  welcome  the  wan- 
derer in — when  the  treasures  of  high  art,  the  grandeur  of 
architecture,  the  beauty  and  sublimity  and  inspiration  of 
painting  and  of  sculpture,  are  made  tributary,  without 
ceasing,  to  the  religion,  in  whose  name  and  service  the  devo- 
tion of  long  ages  gathered  them  together — one  is  at  a  loss  to 
know  where  civilization  can  be  found,  if  the  spirit  which  so 
dedicated  them,  is  to  be  held  as  barbarous. 

In  speaking  of  the  Cathedral  of  Malaga,  I  had  occasion 
to  notice  the  bad  effect  which  is  generally  produced,  in  the 
Spanish  churches,  by  the  habit  of  building  a  solid,  heavy 
choir,  of  stone,  in  the  very  center  of  the  nave.  This  blemish 
is  not  avoided,  by  any  means,  in  the  Seville  Cathedral.  The 
immense  loftiness  of  the  building,  however,  relieves  it  in  a 
great  degree  from  the  usually  unpleasant  effect,  and  the  fine 
marbles  and  sculpture  of  the  coro  itself,  interfere,  greatly, 
with  your  desire  to  have  it  put  out  of  the  way.  Behind  the 
high  altar,  and  of  course  directly  in  front  of  the  choir,  the 
superb  retablo  or  altar-screen  rises  almost  to  the  very  roof 
of  the  nave.  Even  among  so  many  wonders,  this  great 
work  is  perhaps  the  most  wonderful.  It  is  of  wood  alto- 
gether, divided  into  many  niches,  stories,  and  compartments, 
filled  with  statues  and  reliefs,  all  admirably  carved,  repre- 
senting the  transgression  of  our  first  parents  and  the  promi- 
nent incidents  of  the  Saviour's  life  and  passion.  It  is 

L 


242  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

surmounted  by  a  gigantic  crucifix,  of  great  merit,  upon 
which,  at  noon-day  or  a  little  after,  there  pours  down  a 
flood  of  splendor  from  the  crimson  windows  of  the  dome. 
The  style  of  the  retdblo  is  purely  Gothic,  which  is  that  of 
the  whole  Cathedral  proper.  In  some  of  the  chapels  and 
more  modern  additions,  there  are  many  and  strange  varia- 
tions from  the  original  idea,  but  the  consequence  has  been, 
in  every  case,  to  weaken  the  general  effect,  notwithstanding 
the  beauty  of  the  particular  details. 

It  is  the  least  of  my  intentions  to  enter  into  any  thing  like 
a  minute  description  of  what  is  worth  seeing  and  describing 
in  this  great  repository  of  the  arts.  So  prodigal  is  the 
wealth  of  painting  and  sculpture,  and  carving  in  wood  and 
silver ;  so  admirable  the  preservation  of  the  building  and  of 
every  thing  within  it ;  that  no  small  book  could  tell  the  story 
fully,  if  it  were  to  tell  of  nothing  else.  I  made  various 
incursions — undertook  sundry  expeditions  into  and  about  its 
precincts — but  am  very  well  persuaded  that  I  saw  scarce 
more  than  half  of  what  deserves  a  traveler's  admiration. 

The  Royal  Chapel,  frequently  called  the  Chapel  of  St. 
Ferdinand,  is  large  enough  for  an  independent  establishment 
of  its  own  ;  which  it  in  fact  has,  being  the  property  of  the 
crown,  and  not  subject  to  the  Cathedral  jurisdiction.  It 
occupies  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  building,  and  you  enter 
it  beneath  a  lofty  arch,  which  spans  the  whole  of  the  great 
nave.  It  is  not  opened  to  visitors  without  a  special  permit, 
which  it  is  not  easy  to  obtain,  so  that  I  was  compelled  to 
sacrifice  a  little  of  my  morning-sleep,  in  order  to  attend  the 
early  and  only  service  of  the  day.  As  I  have  had  occasion 
to  say,  the  chapel  is  entirely  at  variance,  in  style,  with  the 
body  of  the  Cathedral,  being  after  that  peculiar  fashion  of 
architecture  which  they  call  the  plateresco,  or  silversmith's 
style,  from  the  profusion  and  elaborate  minuteness  of  its 
ornaments.  It  contrasts  ill  enough  with  the  simple  Gothic 
grandeur  which  you  leave  behind  you,  but  has  still  a  certain 
dignity,  in  the  elevation  of  the  entrance-arch,  and  the  noble 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  243 

pitch  of  the  dome.  Before  you,  as  you  walk  in,  you  see 
upon  an  elevated  platform,  the  silver-gilt  shrine  of  St.  Fer- 
dinand, with  crown  and  all  adornments.  The  dome  is 
sculptured  full  of  kings,  and  as  I  have  mentioned,  in  speak- 
ing of  the  Alcazar,  there  is  a  gilt  inscription  on  the  crimson 
canopy  above  the  high  altar,  which  compliments  their  ma- 
jesties by  saying,  "Per  me,  reges  regnant."  Above  the 
recesses,  on  each  side,  are  grim  medallions  of  the  conquerors, 
Garci  and  Diego  Perez  de  Vargas,  looking  as  fierce  in  stone 
as  they  were  rugged  in  the  flesh.  On  the  left,  is  the  proud 
tomb  of  Alonzo  the  Wise,  its  upper  portion  covered  with 
faded  brocade,  on  which,  raised  on  two  cushions,  lie  a  crown 
and  scepter.  Just  opposite,  and  matching  it  exactly,  is  the 
monument  of  Beatriz,  the  wife  of  Ferdinand  and  mother  of 
Alonzo.  Her  epitaph  is  positive  in  stating,  that  though 
fruitful  of  royal  offspring,  she  was  yet  more  fruitful  of  vir- 
tues.* There  are  a  few  old  banners  hanging  high  and  in 
decay  upon  the  walls,  apparently  the  trophies  of  some  hard- 
fought  days.  Two  of  them  are  certainly  tri-colored,  and  I 
thought  that  upon  one  I  could  distinctly  read,  "  Legion 
Polonaise"  The  mass,  on  the  morning  of  my  visit,  was  an 
ordinary  one,  and  the  tones  of  the  chapel-organ  had  no  great 
merit,  so  that  as  soon  as  I  had  made  my  brief  observation,  I 
went  away  with  the  crowd. 

In  the  mean  time,  mass  had  begun  in  the  chapel  of  the 
Virjen  de  la  Antigua,  which  is  held  in  very  peculiar  rever- 
ence, from  the  possession  of  a  picture  that  gives  the  name. 
Some  of  the  more  devout  of  the  good  people  believe  that  St. 
Ferdinand's  entrance  into  Seville  had  something  of  a  miracle 
about  it,  and  that  this  ancient  image  was  not  without  a  share 
in  it.  The  young  ecclesiastic,  however,  who  had  previously 
shown  the  picture  to  me,  claimed  for  it  nothing  but  respect. 
It  had  been,  he  said,  in  Seville,  since  before  the  invasion  of 
the  Moors,  and  St.  Ferdinand  himself  had  often  knelt  before 
it,  so  that  they  always  lighted  the  altar  when  they  exposed 
*  "  Fecunditate  etfama  pracellebat,"  as  Tacitus  says  of  Agrippina. 


244  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

it  to  public  view.  The  picture  is  certainly  a  very  old  one, 
being  obviously  of  the  Byzantine  school,  which  has  still  so 
many  relics  left  in  Italy,  and  it  may  therefore,  easily,  have 
gone  to  Spain  before  the  days  of  Tarik.  On  the  morning 
that  I  speak  of,  the  chapel  was  so  crowded,  that  I  could 
only  find  room  to  lean  against  a  column  of  the  nearest  aisle, 
as  a  soft,  sweet  hymn  stole  from  the  choir.  By  degrees  it 
rose  and  swelled,  and  then  the  pealing  tones  of  one  of  the 
great  organs  followed  it,  with  solemn  echoes,  till  they  rolled 
far  up  and  died  away  together.  I  should  have  liked,  at  that 
moment,  to  have  had  beside  me  some  sage  philosophers  I 
wot  of,  to  have  heard  their  notions  of  "  objective"  worship 
under  the  circumstances  !  A  very  "  subjective"  temper  a 
man  must  have,  I  think,  who  could,  as  Sir  Thomas  Brown 
would  say,  "  disdain  to  suck  divinity"  from  such  sweet 
flowers  ! 

The  reader  may  have  wondered  how  it  was  possible  for 
the  Virjen  de  la  Antigua  to  have  remained  in  Seville,  dur- 
ing Soult's  sojourn — the  fondness  of  that  distinguished  indi- 
vidual for  the  arts  having  been  already  several  times  alluded 
to.  But  if  that  fact  creates  surprise,  what  will  be  thought 
of  the  further  announcement,  that  nearly  the  whole  of  the 
inestimable  ornaments  of  gold  and  silver  belonging  to  the 
Cathedral  are  still  where  they  should  be,  as  beautiful  in  art 
and  as  ponderous  in  metal  as  ever  ?  When  the  verger,  who 
was-showing  me  these  treasures,  kept  opening  chest  after 
chest  and  press  upon  press,  I  could  not  avoid  asking  how  the 
contents  had  possibly  escaped  the  art-appropriating  marshal. 
"  They  went  to  Cadiz,  your  worship,"  was  the  reply,  "  where 
the  Franceses  could  not  follow  them  !"  And  then  he  added, 
"  They  had  a  hard  time,  sir,  in  those  days,  but  a  worse  one 
in  Mendizabal's.  He  was  a  Spaniard,  but  he  went  nigh  to 
melting  them.  If  he  had  been  a  Frenchman,  it  would  not 
have  been  so  bad  !"  It  required  a  man  to  be  both  Jew  and 
finance-minister  in  straits,  to  put  sacrilege  and  Vandalism 
into  the  same  budget ! 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  245 

Strolling  often  through  the  Cathedral,  I  had  observed  the 
tribunas,  or  galleries  of  stone,  which  run  around  the  interior 
of  the  edifice,  at  a  very  considerable  elevation,  and  I  proposed 
to  my  guide,  one  day,  that  we  should  attempt  their  explora- 
tion. He  told  me,  that  during  many  years  of  service  he  had 
gone  that  round  but  twice,  and  I  found  afterward,  from  the 
deep  dust  we  stirred,  that  the  path  was,  in  fact,  rarely 
trodden.  For  a  performance  so  far  out  of  the  usual  line,  it 
was  necessary  to  make  an  appointment  with  the  vergers  at 
least  a  day  in  advance,  and  a  programme  of  pesetas  was  pre- 
sented to  me,  likewise,  which  might  have  diminished  any 
ordinary  curiosity.  My  climbing  propensity,  however,  was 
in  full  development,  and  being  determined  not  to  be  cheated 
out  of  the  ramble,  I  made  bold  to  face  the  pesetas,  the  fatigue 
and  the  dust.  Up  winding  stairs  (caracoles)  of  stone,  alas, 
how  tiresome  !  in  and  out  of  little  towers  ;  up  and  down, 
and  all  around  dark  passages ;  over  the  roof,  and  through 
iron-shod  doors,  low,  narrow,  and  innumerable,  we  made  our 
patient  way,  amply  compensated  for  the  troubles  of  the  jour- 
ney, by  the  precious  points  of  view  on  which  we  fell.  From 
no  place  is  the  Cathedral  seen  to  so  much  advantage,  as  from 
the  galleries.  The  depth  and  distance  below  you  add  to 
your  idea  of  grandeur  and  dimension,  far  more  than  you  lose 
in  the  sense  of  loftiness,  by  your  proximity  to  the  vaulted 
roof.  I  defy  any  man  of  ordinary  sensibility  to  stand  in  the 
transept  galleries,  among  the  glowing  rays,  or  at  the  extrem- 
ity of  the  nave,  in  the  mid-splendor  of  the  great  rose- window  ; 
a  forest  of  columns  before  him  ;  stupendous  arches  mingling 
above  and  about  him  ;  the  altars  and  the  choir,  the  paie 
lamps  and  pigmy  worshipers,  far,  far  beneath  him ;  without 
feeling,  unimaginative  as  he  may  be,  that  there  are  temples 
fitter  than  the  mountains  for  the  worship  of  God  ! 

From  one  gallery,  and  in  a  light  so  fine  that  the  view 
was  absolutely  perfect,  I  remember  that  I  saw  the  fierce  but 
splendid  ptcture,  by  Roelas,  of  Santiago  riding  down  the 
Moors  in  battle.  I  had  not  believed  it  possible  to  distinguish 


246  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

any  thing  with  accuracy  at  such  a  distance,  for  the  picture 
was  in  a  chapel  far  down  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  church  ; 
yet  the  point  of  view  at  that  bright  instant  could  not  have 
been  surpassed.  In  a  few  moments  I  was  in  another  gal- 
lery, upon  the  floor  of  which  there  were  many  scattered 
feathers  of  small  birds.  There  were  hawks,  the  verger  told 
me,  in  the  upper  vaults  of  the  Cathedral  as  well  as  the 
Giralda,  and  these  were  the  feathers  of  their  prey.  Were  I 
a  missionary  of  the  Peace  Society,  I  might  say  (as  perhaps 
I  thought),  that  hawks  and  battle-pieces  seemed  equally  ap- 
propriate to  the  place  and  its  purposes  ! 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Journey  to  Cordova — Carmona — The  Road  and  Travelers — Primitive 
Agriculture — Ecija — The  Alforjas  —  Dawn  upon  Cordova — The 
Mosque — Moorish  Relics — St.  Raphael,  and  what  he.  swore — The 
Christian  Captive  and  his  Cross — Procession  and  Silver  Ornaments 
— Gen.  Dupont — Appearance  and  Decay  of  Cordova — Return  to 
Seville — The  Colonies  and  Olavide — The  Infanta  and  the  Poet — 
Spanish  Diligences. 

IT  is  a  scrap  of  guide-book  philosophy  worth  remember- 
ing, that  a  traveler  should  always  see  what  he  can,  when 
he  can.  To-morrow  is  generally  able  to  provide  for  itself, 
so  that  it  is  always  wise  to  take  what  is  at  hand  for  to-day. 
I  had  arranged,  in  my  programme,  to  visit  Cordova  after 
going  to  Granada ;  but  it  occurred  to  me  one  day,  at  Se- 
ville, that  I  had  better  run  up  to  the  ancient  city,  while  I 
had  the  opportunity.  As  things  turned  out,  I  should  have 
lost  the  visit  altogether,  but  for  my  facility  in  yielding  to 
the  whim. 

It  was  very  early  in  the  afternoon  of  a  bright,  pleasant 
day,  that  I  found  myself,  all  alone,  in  the  coupe  of  a  fine 
diligence,  with  her  majesty's  royal  mail-bags  shaking  in  the 
interior  behind  me,  as  we  rattled  over  the  stones  and  out 
at  the  Triana  gate.  We  should  properly  have  gone  out  by 
the  ancient  gate  of  Xerez,  but  they  had  commenced  that 
morning  to  pull  down  the  venerable  structure,  and  along 
with  it  had  gone  all  the  prestige  of  the  famed  inscription — 

"  Hercules  me  edific6,"  &c. 

Our  road  led  us,  for  some  time,  along  the  old  Moorish  aque- 
duct, the  Cafws  de  Carmona,  and  then  we  passed,  in  due 


248  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

season,  the  Cruz  del  Campo,  of  which  I  have  spoken  in 
describing  the  House  of  Pilate.  The  country,  as  we  went 
on,  was  fine  and  fruitful,  covered  with  grain,  and  studded 
every  where  with  orchards  of  oranges  and  olives.  Now 
and  then  we  passed  a  field  of  the  Jiabas,  so  prominent  in 
the  history  of  the  bread-riots.  It  is  a  very  pretty  crop, 
and  throws  a  soft,  rich  shade  into  the  coloring  of  the  land- 
scape. The  hedges  were  mostly  of  the  pita  or  aloe,  from 
the  midst  of  whose  gigantic  foliage  an  asparagus-shaped 
spear  sprang  up,  sometimes  ten  feet  high.  At  regular  and 
graceful  intervals,  there  were  little  branches  spreading  out 
around  these  lofty  shafts,  which  looked  as  if  expressly 
meant  for  vegetable  candelabra.  Within  a  reasonable  cir- 
cuit round  the  city,  there  were  many  neat,  white  country- 
houses  sprinkled,  with  pretty  groves  about  them ;  but  as 
we  traveled  on,  the  plains  grew  wider,  and  the  habitations 
much  less  frequent.  Then  we  came  upon  huge  droves  of 
cattle  or  mares,  at  pasture,  while  here  and  there  a  group 
of  muleteers,  close  by  the  road-side,  lay  asleep  in  the  shad- 
ow of  the  hedges,  their  docile  beasts  improving  the  opportu- 
nity to  browse  upon  what  grass  there  was  at  hand.  Large 
birds  of  prey,  floating  and  gliding  high  up  in  the  air,  occa- 
sionally threw  their  lazy  shadows  on  our  path,  giving,  if 
possible,  yet  more  repose  to  the  sad  stillness  which  hung 
over  all  things.  I  say  stillness — but  the  reader  is  to  under- 
stand that  term  as  having  only  a  relative  sense,  within  five 
miles  of  a  Spanish  diligence.  Our  post  had  only  eight 
mules,  and  the  people  were  the  quietest  I  met  in  Spain,  of 
their  vocation  ;  but  such  a  clattering  of  all  things  that  can 
clatter — such  a  cracking  of  whips,  beating  of  mules,  and 
swearing  in  general  and  particular-. — would  have  scared  the 
birds  of  all  sorts  out  of  any  less  accustomed  country. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  when  we  reached  Alcala  de 
Guadaira,  or  Alcala  de  los  panaderos  (of  the  bakers),  the 
bread  factory  of  Seville,  and  indeed,  of  all  the  adjoining 
country.  Scarcely  any  business  but  that  of  baking  is  fol- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  249 

lowed  in  the  town  ;  and  whether  it  be  from  the  water,  or 
the  flour,  or  the  skill  of  the  adepts,  it  is  certain  that  the 
staff  of  life  is  no  where  better  on  the  face  of  the  bread- 
eating  earth.  It  has  a  fine  old  ruin — a  Moorish  castle,  with 
hexagonal  and  square  towers — crowning  a  bold,  green  hill, 
around  whose  base  the  bright  Guadaira  twines  itself,  and 
then  goes  glistening  off,  through  meadows  loaded  with  lux- 
uriant vegetation,  and  fragrant  and  beautiful  with  oranges 
and  olives.  Before  you,  on  the  right,  there  is  a  reach  of 
valley  sweeping  to  the  verge  of  the  horizon  ;  while,  if  you 
look  backward,  you  will  see  the  graceful  form  of  the  Giralda 
rising  high  among  the  hills,  over  whose  farthest  fastnesses 
the  castle  of  San  Juan  de  Alfarache  seems  keeping  watch 
and  ward. 

A  few  orchards  that  we  passed,  as  we  went  out  of 
Alcala,  made  poor  amends  for  the  vast  desert,  all  untilled, 
through  which  our  journey  led  us  next.  The  flowers,  of 
every  hue  and  of  the  richest  fragrance,  which  sprang  up  in 
boundless  prodigality  all  over  these  wild  plains,  were  a  per- 
petual comment  on  the  sinful  system  which  left  them  thus 
a  waste.  Our  diligence  called  a  halt  next  at  Mairena,  a 
poor,  silent  village  then,  though,  but  the  week  before,  it  had 
been  crowded,  at  its  annual  fair,  with  all  the  traders  and 
horse-fanciers  of  Andalusia.  A  bright-eyed  imp  of  an  or- 
ange-girl, who  brought  her  basket  to  my  window,  insisted 
on  my  taking  her  whole  stock.  She  was  poor,  she  said, 
and  I  was  rich,  she  knew,  for  the  Ingleses  were  all  rich ! — 
muy  ricos !  Between  Mairena  and  Carmona,  we  had  a 
few  far  glimpses  of  good  farming,  now  and  then,  among  the 
reaches  of  the  hills,  but  cultivation  was  the  exception,  not 
the  rule.  Full  half  a  league  off  from  Carmona,  we  could 
see  that  proud  old  town,  commanding  from  its  hill-top  a 
broad  valley,  which  was  bounded,  miles  and  miles  away, 
by  the  gray  gorges  of  the  Ronda  Mountains.  When  we 
drew  nearer,  we  discovered  that  the  frownmg  battlements, 
so  famous .  once  in  border-foray,  were  ruinous  and  desolate 

L* 


250  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

enough.  A  solitary  palm  stood,  here  and  there,  in  view, 
keeping  them  sad  company. 

"  Having  seen  every  thing  in  Seville,"  says  Mr.  Swin- 
burne, "  that  was  recommended  to  our  notice,  we  came  to 
lie  at  Carmona."  The  Spaniards  say  that  this  distinguished 
gentleman  amused  himself  by  doing  the  same  thing  wherever 
he  went.  I  had  not,  however,  the  traveler's  privilege  of 
following  his  example,  for  our  diligence  did  not  enter  the 
gates.  We  passed  to  the  right,  by  the  green  and  beautiful 
Alameda  :  the  fortress-crowned  rocks,  their  clefts  all  blos- 
soming with  flowers,  rising  abruptly  on  our  left.  When 
you  have  gone  well  around  the  town,  the  eminence  on  which 
you  stand  gives  you  a  view  of  wonderful  extent.  The  de- 
clining sun  lighted  it,  as  we  went  on,  with  grayer  and  grayer 
light,  until  at  last  the  mists  upon  the  distant  mountains 
seemed  to  descend  to  meet  us,  and  we  found  that  it  was 
night. 

We  had  met  a  good  many  travelers  in  the  course  of  the 
day,  but  the  most  of  them  were  mule  or  donkey-drivers, 
guiding  or  bestriding  their  beasts,  whose  high  piled  loads 
seemed  cruelly  disproportioned  to  the  long-eared  motive  power 
below.  It  was  like  nothing  I  had  ever  seen,  except  the 
sport  of  young  natural  philosophers  at  school,  who  will  some- 
times put  a  brick  upon  a  beetle,  in  order  to  test  the  strength 
of  his  muscles  by  his  capacity  to  move  it.  Yet  the  "cav- 
alry" (caballeria),  as  they  call  them,  went  cheerfully  enough 
along,  and  were  so  docile,  that  the  driver  mostly  guided 
them  by  a  touch  or  slight  pressure  of  his  staff.  The  arrie- 
ros  seemed  somewhat  poverty-stricken,  generally,  although 
many  of  them  were  exceedingly  fine  looking  fellows.  Their 
brown  sheepskin  jackets,  loose  breeches,  leather  leggins, 
peaked -hats  and  firelocks,  together  with  their  sempiternal 
and  mysterious  brown  cloaks,  had  something  wild  and  strange 
about  them,  which  might  have  looked  half  bandit-like,  to 
one  fresh  from  the  region  of  dress-coats.  This  sort  of  im- 
pression might  indeed  have  been  produced,  even  more  nat- 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  251 

urally,  by  the  gallant  riders  who  now  and  then  went  by  us, 
mounted  on  stout  strong  horses,  their  calesera  jackets  and 
well  swung  weapons  looking  like  the  uniform  and  accouter- 
ments  of  a  disciplined  corps  of  the  road.  And  then  the 
lonely  shepherds  and  swine-herds,  watching  their  charge 
upon  the  heaths  and  hill-sides — their  Jong  staves  in  their 
hands,  and  large  dogs  crouching  by  them  !  How  little 
of  fancy  did  it  ask,  to  make  each  of  them  a  desperate  Dick 
Turpin  upon  foot,  and  to  persuade  ourselves  that  nothing 
but  the  speed  of  mules  would  save  our  throats  and  purses. 
And  yet  they  were  poor  harmless  creatures,  as  innocent  and 
pastoral,  no  doubt,  as  if  they  had  borne  crooks  in  Arcady, 
instead  of  looking  like  the  bravoes  in  a  melo-drama.  They 
were  dark  brown  all  over  :  for  they  and  their  sheep  wear 
the  same  wool,  and  a  white  sheep,  in  Spain,  is  quite  as  rare 
as  would  their  par  do  be,  with  us.  I  remember,  vividly, 
how  I  was  struck,  by  seeing  one  of  these  poor  men  upon  a 
hill,  as  we  went  up  toward  Carmona.  The  afternoon  was 
waning,  and  the  light  was  what  it  should  be,  to  produce 
that>  strange  effect  which  we  call  "  looming,"  in  our  mount- 
ains. The  shepherd's  figure  was  defined  with  beautiful 
distinctness  against  the  cloudless  background  of  the  sky,  and 
he  appeared  a  very  giant,  with  a  staff  quite  terrible  to  see. 
I  had  not  witnessed  the  phenomenon,  at  home,  so  often  as  to 
have  ceased  to  wonder  at  it,  and  was  enjoying  it  accordingly, 
when  of  a  sudden  there  arose  another  figure  on  the  profile  of 
the  hill.  It  was  a  donkey,  and  his  ears  loomed  too  !  The 
sun  that  shines  alike  upon  the  just  and  unjust,  made  no  dis- 
tinction between  the  master  and  his  ass  ! 

The  ancient  poets  used  to  think  and  sing  that  the  fleeces 
of  the  sheep  of  Andalusia  took  their  peculiar  color  from 
something  in  the  water,  air,  and  herbage.  No  doubt  there 
was  philosophy  in  that,  and  one  is  puzzled  to  imagine  from 
what  other  sources  the  innocent  animals  could  have  been 
expected  to  obtain  it.  At  all  events,  since  the  Chinese 
have  shown  us  that  a  man  may  change  the  color  of  his 


252  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

hair,  by  diet  full  as  well  as  dye,  there  is  still  smaller 
ground  for  thinking  that  Martial,  Juvenal,  and  Virgil  were 
ignorant  of  animal  chemistry.  Nevertheless  the  thing  has 
yet  to  reach  that  stage  of  its  perfection  foreshadowed  in  the 
Pollio,  when  the  flowers  of  the  field  will  give  their  radiant 
colors  to  the  flocks  : 

"  Sponte  sua^  sandyx  pascentes  vestiet  agnos." 

As  the  night  was  closing  in,  we  passed,  occasionally,  a 
group  of  laborers,  retiring  with  their  cattle,  from  the  fields. 
Coming  from  a  single  meadow,  where  they  had  been  plow- 
ing, we  met  a  grave  procession  of  nineteen  yoke  of  oxen,  as 
fine  and  well-bred  looking  animals  as  farmer's  heart  could 
covet.  The  habit  of  plowing  with  many  yoke  in  the  same 
field,  is  practiced  still,  after  the  old  Eastern  fashion  that  we 
read  of  in  the  Scriptures.  It  seems,  however,  no  better  than 
an  insult  to  cattle  so  respectable,  to  fasten  them  to  such  an 
instrument  as  is  called  a  plow  in  Andalusia.  Reduced  to 
its  first  principles,  it  is  a  big,  sharp,  crooked  stick,  and  nothing 
more.  The  business  of  the  plowman  is  to  keep  it  in  the 
ground  ;  that  of  the  oxen,  if  they  can,  to  pull  it  out.  No 
doubt  it  can  be  traced  back,  without  change,  to  the  Phoani- 
cians,  and  if  it  could  be  sent  back  to  them,  the  grain-fields 
of  Andalusia  might  rejoice.  What  a  piece  of  charity  and 
wisdom  it  would  be,  if  Mr.  Cobden  and  his  followers,  instead 
of  bothering  the  simple  people  with  free-trade  in  the  abstract, 
and  "consumption,"  and  "production,"  and  "unrestricted  com- 
petition," would  persuade  them,  in  a  quiet  way,  to  burn  these 
heir-looms  of  antiquity,  and  sell  one-half  their  oxen  to  buy 
something  agricultural  that  has  been  invented  since  the  taking 
of  Numantia ! 

At  midnight,  we  pulled  up  before  the  Post-office  at  Ecija, 
and  a  lonely  hour  I  had  of  it,  while  they  were  ransacking 
and  replenishing  our  mails.  Not  a  soul  was  stirring  in  the 
dark  and  dismal  streets,  except  the  watchman  who  came  by, 
with  lantern,  spear,  and  cloak,  and  shouted  under  the  window 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  253 

of  the  diligence,  "Ave  Maria  Purizima!  Laz  doze  acaban 
y  zereno  /"  It  is  a  theory  of  the  mail-coach  functionaries, 
that  a  man  who  travels  under  the  auspices  of  her  Majesty 
can  fill  his  stomach  sufficiently  with  the  honor  of  the  thing1, 
and  there  is  therefore  no  provision  for  taking  one's  meals 
upon  the  road.  The  conductor  and  his  suite  carry  bread, 
wine,  and  garlic,  for  their  own  refreshment,  in  the  little 
alforjas  or  saddle-bags,  made  of  striped  cotton,  without  which 
no  native  travels.  If  you  are  willing  to  share  their  banquet, 
the  poor  men  will  make  you  welcome,  with  all  their  hearts, 
but  you  may,  perhaps,  not  like  the  viands,  and  it  is  wisest, 
therefore,  to  provide  some  creature-comforts  of  your  own.  No 
one  had  been  merciful  enough  to  tell  me  this  before  I  started, 
and  the  fresh  evening  air  and  exercise  had  given  me  an 
appetite,  by  midnight,  which  was  intent  on  things  more  solid 
than  listening  to  the  watchman.  I  had  possessed  myself  of  a 
specimen  loaf  at  Alcala,  and  there  were  oranges  still  left  from 
the  purchase  at  Mairena,  so  that,  in  lack  of  better  cheer,  I 
made  a  heavy,  chilly  meal  of  them,  not  without  forebodings 
of  the  morrow.  The  reader  may,  perchance,  before  he  dies, 
be  traveling  with  the  mail  to  Cordova,  and  if  this  scrap  of 
my  experience  should  suggest  the  alforjas  to  him,  he  will 
hold  it,  I  am  sure,  less  trifling,  than,  perhaps,  he  deems  it 
now. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  I  finally  awoke,  for  I  had 
had  some  forty  parenthetical  awakenings  during  the  small 
hours.  The  morning  showed  us  nothing,  for  a  while,  but  a 
dull  series  of  rolling  plains,  as  we  drew  near  to  Cordova. 
When  we  reached  the  Cuesta  de  los  Visos,  some  two  or 
three  miles  off,  the  City  of  the  Caliphs  rose  at  last  before  us, 
old  and  dim,  and  heavy  with  the  shadows  of  the  Sierra 
Morena.  Peasants  and  travelers  passed  us  then,  occasionally, 
and  as  our  mules  made  excellent  speed,  we  soon  found  our- 
selves beside  the  little  Moorish  castle  which  commands  the 
venerable  bridge  across  the  Guadalquivir.  The  foundations 
of  that  noble  structure  were  laid  by  Julius  Caesar  :  Hixem 


254  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

the  Great  adorned  it,  in  the  zenith  of  his  power :  Christian  kings 
have  since  done  all  they  could  to  make  it  worthy  of  its  proud 
estate,  and  yet  our  noisy  diligence  went  rattling,  in  an  instant, 
over  it,  as  if  the  dynasties  were  nothing  to  a  post-boy !  I 
was  delighted  when  I  saw,  as  we  were  crossing,  that  the 
Mosque  and  the  Alcazar,  which  were  all  I  cared  to  see  in 
Cordova,  were  very  near  together,  and  I  for  once  determined 
ta  act  upon  the  principle  of  "go  ahead,"  and  hurry  back  to 
Seville  as  fast  as  I  had  left  it.  A  soldier  off  duty  conde- 
scended to  take  my  carpet-bag  to  the  Fonda  de  las  Dili- 
jencias,  which  I  can  commend  to  future  travelers,  as  possess- 
ing a  peculiar  variety  of  tea,  not  known  to  the  most  experi- 
enced of  the  Hong  merchants.  There  were  several  persons 
sipping  their  chocolate  at  small  tables  in  the  patio,  and  when 
they  heard  me  order  "t6"  they  seemed  to  think  it  a  much 
better  joke  than  I  did  when  I  tried  it.  Having  no  time  to 
lose,  however,  I  swallowed  the  decoction,  and  committed 
myself  to  the  charge  of  an  old  varlet,  called  Don  Francisco, 
who  had  a  peaked  hat  and  freckled  face,  and  glided  about 
softly,  on  hempen  sandals.  He  was  a  great  humbug,  I  soon 
found,  as  all  valets  de  place  are. 

Of  course  we  went,  at  once,  to  the  Mosque.  Don  Fran- 
cisco entreated  me,  sturdily,  to  go  up  St.  Peter's  tower, 
which  is  the  belfry,  and  I  doubt  not,  from  his  urgency,  that 
he  and  the  keeper  had  a  permanent  arrangement  to  divide 
all  spoils.  I  resisted  manfully,  however,  and  went,  at  once, 
into  the  Court  of  Oranges,  where,  passing  the  old  orange- 
groves  and  Moorish  fountains,  I  made  rny  way  toward  the 
church.  Outside  the  principal  entrance  there  stood  a  group 
of  ecclesiastics  and  of  laymen  in  full  dress.  They  had  with 
them  sundry  banners  and  church  ornaments,  and  obviously 
were  about  to  take  part  in  some  special  ceremonial.  They 
looked  askant  at  my  broad  traveling  hat,  which  certainly 
was  not  de  etiqueta,  but  I  bowed  myself  on,  through  their 
ranks,  as  gravely  as  I  could,  and  in  a  moment  was  beneath 
the  low  roof  of  the  Cathedral.  It  is  a  strange,  extraordinary 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  255 

building  certainly.  The  guide-books  say  that  it  has  between 
eight  and  nine  hundred  columns,  and  full  eight-and-forty 
aisles.  I  counted  neither  aisles  nor  columns,  but  can  readily 
bear  witness  that  there  is  a  forest  of  the  last,  and  a  laby- 
rinth of  the  first.  Blue  spirits  and  gray,  thick  pillars  and 
thin,  Grecian  and  Moorish,  of  all  orders  and  of  none,  without 
distinction  of  color,  size,  or  quality,  people  the  vast  area. 
The  huge  choir,  interpolated  by  the  vicious  taste  of  three 
centuries  ago,  annoying  as  it  is  to  all  sense  of  beauty  and 
proportion,  becomes  really  attractive  as  a  sort  of  land-mark. 
The  side  chapels,  which  would  have  been  abominable,  any 
where  and  at  any  time,  lose  their  unpleasantness  when  you 
regard  them  as  a  sort  of  boundary  to  the  stone  wilderness. 
The  larger  aisles,  running  from  east  to  west,  are  about 
twenty  feet  in  width.  A  single  arch  springs  over  each  of 
them,  at  every  intersection  of  the  transverse  aisles,  which 
run  from  north  to  south  and  are  some  twelve  feet  wide. 
Over  each  transverse  aisle,  at  every  intersection  of  a  larger 
one,  rises  a  double  arch,  or  rather  rise  two  arches,  one  above 
the  other,  so  that  with  aisles  and  arches,  and  arches  and 
aisles  and  columns,  look  you  up  or  down  or  all  around,  you 
are  more  and  more  bewildered,  the  more  and  more  you 
turn. 

Of  the  Moorish  splendors,  other  than  those  of  architecture 
merely,  little  now  remains,  except  the  chapel  of  Villa-viciosa 
and  that  of  St.  Peter,  both  of  which  preserve  some  relics  of 
the  gorgeous  caliphate.  The  Villa-viciosa,  said  by  some  to 
have  been  the  Caliph's  oratory,  and  by  others  taken  for  the 
sacred  place  from  which  the  imaums  edified  the  people,  is  in 
the  body  of  the  Mosque.  It  once  was  level  with  the  pave- 
ment, but  now  stands  some  five  or  six  feet  higher.  They 
entered  it,  in  Moorish  times,  beneath  a  splendid  arch,  which 
fronts  the  western  portal.  Now  you  go  in  at  a  little  door  upon 
the  south,  and  pass  through  a  small  chapel,  where  is  said  to 
be  the  first  high  altar  consecrated  in  the  Mosque  to  Chris- 
tian worship.  The  arch,  through  which  the  Caliphs  entered, 


256  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

is  now  obstructed  by  a  wretched  picture,  flanked  by  gaudy 
marbles.  The  painting  represents  the  Archangel  Raphael, 
as  he  appeared,  once  on  a  time,  to  the  good  monk  Roelas. 
The  father,  to  his  credit  be  it  said,  was  somewhat  dubious 
of  the  archangel's  name  and  category,  and  well  he  might  be, 
for  the  glorious  visitor,  in  his  red  breeches  and  blue  tunic, 
has  nothing  of  the  angel  but  his  wings.  Two  little  cherubs 
hold  a  shield,  accordingly,  before  you,  on  which  you  read 
how  Raphael  announced  himself — 

"  Yo  te  juro  por  Jesu  Cristo  crucificado  que  soy  Rafael 
angel  a  quien  tiene  Dios  pueslo  por  guarda  desta  ciudad 
de  Cordova."  (I  swear  to  you,  by  Jesus  Christ  crucified, 
that  I  am  Raphael,  the  angel  whom  God  has  placed  as 
guardian  of  this  city  of  Cordova). 

The  good  Roelas,  nothing  loth,  believed  all  this,  and  the 
poor  Cordovese  believed  it  after  him,  in  proof  of  which,  they 
raised  a  column,  called  the  Triumph  (el  Triumfo)  not  far 
from  the  Cathedral,  on  which  they  placed  a  gilded  image 
of  St.  Raphael.  It  is  some  ninety  feet  in  height  (the 
column)  and  made  of  many-colored  marbles.  If  when  you 
see  it,  reader,  you  think  you  have  seen  any  thing  in  viler 
taste  (except  perhaps  the  picture)  you  may  be  certain  you 
have  traveled  to  advantage. 

You  enter  the  Villa-viciosa  by  a  postern,  I  have  said. 
When  you  are  within  the  little  chapel,  the  verger  turns  a 
key  close  to  the  altar-side,  and  you  go  into  the  oratory  of  the 
Caliphs.  A  chapel  for  a  prince  it  must  have  been,  indeed, 
when  the  rich  arabesques,  now  faded  and  fast  crumbling  off, 
were  decked  with  all  their  gorgeousness,  and  every  thing 
around  them  was  in  splendid  keeping.  They  point  you  to 
a  little  alcove,  where  they  say  the  Koran  lay,  and  you  see 
still  the  open  window,  from  beneath  whose  graceful  arch 
the  commander  of  the  faithful  looked  out  upon  the  Holy  of 
Holies. 

The  sanctuary  of  the  Mussulman  is  now  the  chapel  of 
St.  Peter,  the  Cathedral's  patron,  and  deserves  minute  inspec- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  257 

tion.  It  is  divided  into  two  apartments,  each  beautiful  and 
perfect  in  its  way.  The  front  presents  three  airy  horse-shoe 
arches,  rising  on  light  columns,  with  three  arches  that  are 
heavier,  below.  The  splendid  arabesques  that  are  all  over 
the  exterior,  prepare  you  for  the  bright  array  within.  To- 
ward the  center  of  the  outer  chamber,  lies  the  tomb  of  Don 
Alonzo  Fernandez  de  Cordova,  Lord  of  Montemayor,  on 
whom  the  Bishop  and  Chapter  bestowed  the  chapel,  in 
grateful  recollection  of  his  services,  as  defender  of  the  city, 
when  Peter  the  Cruel  and  the  King  of  Granada  advanced 
with  their  combined  troops  against  it,  in  the  year  1367.  The 
warrior's  monument  is  very  simple,  but  over  it  there  hangs 
magnificence  enough — for  it  is  just  below  the  octagon-shaped 
dome,  all  radiant  with  mosaics  and  glittering  with  gold.  The 
chapel  walls  are  covered  with  bright  colors,  and  the  lower 
portion  of  the  dome  rests  upon  columns  of  rich  jasper,  con- 
trasting with  a  band  of  stainless  white ;  while,  higher  up,  the 
lantern  is  supported  (if  a  thing  so  light  can  need  support), 
by  columns  slenderer  and  brighter  still.  Flowers  and  foliage, 
delicate  and  fairy-like,  such  as  none  ever  molded  save  the 
Moor,  are  scattered  over  all,  with  a  prodigality  of  wealth 
which  only  Arab  story-tellers  could  describe.  Then,  under  a 
grand  horse-shoe  arch,  coated  with  gold  and  flashing  colors, 
surrounded  by  gay  arabesques,  and  quaint  inscriptions  which, 
they  say,  are  Cufic,  you  enter  the  sanctum  sanctorum,  a 
miracle  of  art  and  architecture.  It  is  an  octagon,  encrusted 
with  rich,  polished  marbles,  and  on  twelve  columns  of  the 
same  bright  hues,  with  capitals  and  bases  highly  gilded,  it 
supports  a  precious  shell,  as  white  as  alabaster,  wrought 
from  a  single  piece  of  marble,  and  yet  eighteen  feet  across  ! 
With  all  its  massiveness,  it  seems  so  delicate  and  pure,  that 
you  might  half  believe  it  had  been  found  on  the  sea-shore — a 
mermaid's  palace  thrown  up  by  an  earthquake,  or  a  chariot 
of  state  new-made  for  Amphitrite  !  The  marble  pavement 
under  it  is  worn  quite  visibly ;  the  faithful  in  old  Paynim  times 
believing  that  they  walked  to  Paradise,  by  marching  barefoot 


258  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

round  this  holy  place.  In  Hixem's  day,  as  Conde  tells  us, 
it  was  lighted  by  the  Atanor,  a  golden  lamp  "  of  marvelous 
size  and  workmanship,"  whose  oil,  perfumed  with  ambergris 
and  aloes,  might  with  its  fragrance  have  well  ravished  even 
senses  orthodox. 

Believe  the  vergers  and  my  sandaled  friend  Antonio,  how- 
ever, and  you  will  be  taught  that  one  poor  Christian  slave, 
at  least,  was  proof  against  this  cluster  of  seductions.  On  a 
pillar,  by  the  western  wall  of  the  Cathedral,  is  a  cross,  cut, 
and  quite  deeply,  in  the  stone,  which  you  are  told  a  Chris- 
tian captive  executed,  with  his  finger-nail !  There  is  a  little 
iron  grating,  to  preserve  the  relic  and  give  to  it  a  precious 
look,  while  higher  up,  on  the  same  column,  there  is  a  brief 
inscription.  Upon  the  wall,  on  the  left  side,  there  is  a  paltry 
little  bas-relief,  which  represents  an  individual  dressed  in  St. 
Raphael's  colors  and  kneeling,  with  a  rope  about  his  neck. 
He  is  fastened  to  a  ring,  by  a  cord  around  his  leg,  and  his 
hands  are  clasped,  as  if  in  prayer.  Close  by,  they  tell  his 
story  in  choice  elegiacs — 

"  Hoc  sua  dum  celebrat  Mahometicus  orgia  templo, 
Captivus  Christi  numina  vera  vocat, 
Et  quern  corde  tenet,  rigido  saxo  ungue  figurat, 
Jlureolam  pro  quo,  fune  peremptus,  habet." 

Upon  the  other  side,  the  legend  is  retailed  again  in  Spanish 
verse,  so  that  the  captive  can  not,  certainly,  complain,  that 
he  has  lacked  a  sacred  bard.  It  reads  as  follows  : — 

"  El  cautibo,  con  gran  fee, 
En  aqueste  duro  marmol, 
Con  la  una,  senalo 
Jl  Christo  crucificado, 
Siendo  esta  iglesia  mezquita, 
Donde  lo  martyrizaron." 

A  Cordovese  historiographer  is  rash  enough  to  say  that  all 
this  legend  is  "a  fiction  unlikely  and  ridiculous."  A  stran- 
ger has  no  right  to  be  more  patriotic  than  a  native,  and 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  259 

travelers  may  be  pardoned,  therefore,  for  a  little  skepticism 
in  the  matter.  Mr.  Ford  gives  it  as  his  notion  that  "  a 
nail"  achieved  the  wonder.  M.  Gautier  believes  the  whole, 
implicitly,  but  goes  on  further  to  declare  his  firm  persuasion, 
that  " autrefois"  either  the  porphyry  was  very  tender,  or 
"  Von  avait  des  angles  diablement  durs."  For  my  part,  I 
incline  to  think  the  story  quite  as  likely  as  some  others,  that 
we  swallow  without  straining.  The  unshod  feet  of  infidels, 
as  we  have  seen,  could  wear  away  a  sacred  pavement,  and 
why  should  finger-nails  do  less  with  sacred  columns  ?  It  is 
obvious,  that  all  the  captive  needed  was  sufficient  time.  I 
own,  it  is  true,  that  my  faith  would  be  a  little  clearer  if 
there  were  not  a  small  obstacle.  While  all  the  legends  and 
inscriptions  tell  you  that  the  wonder  was  a  crucifix,  the 
thing  they  show  you  now,  is  but  a  naked  cross.  When 
that  shall  be  cleared  up,  I  shall,  unquestionably,  side  with 
Don  Antonio  and  the  verger. 

Having  thus  visited  the  relics  of  the  Moor  and  of  his 
martyr,  I  was  taken  next  to  see  the  choir  and  the  high 
altar.  There  is  but  little  beauty  of  detail  there,  to  compen- 
sate the  wholesale  sacrilege  of  sending  such  a  tasteless  dome 
up  through  the  fine  old  roof.  M.  Gautier,  with  curious  and 
purely  French  felicity,  compares  the  Christian  portion  of  the 
building  to  a  "  monstrueux  cJiampignon  de  pierre"  a  mon- 
strous stone  mushroom  !  But  for  the  carving  of  the  stalls, 
which  certainly  is  rare  and  exquisite,  the  whole  would  be  a 
melancholy  jumble  of  architecture  over-done  and  vicious 
ornament  run  mad.  The  canons  and  choristers  had  gone  on 
their  procession  round  the  church,  and  I  could  see  them,  here 
and  there,  by  snatches,  as  they  marched  amid  the  mazes  of 
the  columns.  It  must  have  been  some  festival  in  honor  of 
the  Virgin,  for  they  bore  her  image  with  them,  superbly 
wrought  of  massive  silver  gilt.  Rich  as  this  statue  was, 
however,  it  seemed  quite  insignificant,  compared  with  the 
custodia  beneath  which  it  stood.  This  splendid  work  of  art 
is,  in  its  form,  a  Gothic  temple,  and  is  graced  with  sculpture 


260  .GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

so  minute,  elaborate  and  perfect,  that  an  eloquent  enthusi- 
ast in  art  has  said,  "  It  seems  to  have  been  imagined  in  a 
dream,  and  executed  in  a  breath."  There  is  a  story  current 
in  Cordova,  which,  if  true,  would  certainly  justify  the  rhap- 
sody. They  say  that,  in  the  war  of  the  Peninsula,  when 
magnanimous  Dupont  was  plundering  the  dwellings  and 
churches  of  the  city,  and  carrying  off  gold  and  silver  by  the 
wagon-load,  he  halted  in  front  of  the  custodia,  and — left  it 
where  it  was,  in  honor  of  its  beauty  and  the  sculptor's  genius  ! 
What  shall  be  said  of  the  poor  captive's  wonder  after  this  ? 
Ford  says,  however,  that  with  other  sacred  vessels,  the  cus- 
todia was  "  secreted,"  and  only  thus  was  left  unstolen  ;  but 
la  perfide  Albion  will  libel  la  belle  France  upon  occasion,  and 
Dupont  was  a  man,  we  know,  whose  love  of  art  would  weigh 
down  massive  silver  ! 

As  I  was  leaving  the  Cathedral,  the  last  lines  of  the  pro- 
cession were  entering  the  choir.  Mingled  with  the  clergy- 
men and  acolytes,  were  several  of  the  laymen  I  had  seen  when 
I  went  in.  but  they  had  clad  themselves  meanwhile,  in  robes 
and  hats  of  crimson  velvet,  embroidered  heavily  with  gold. 
What  part  they  bore  in  the  fair  show,  or  what  high  dignita- 
ries I  beheld  in  them,  unconsciously,  I  never  even  asked.  I 
saw  them,  as  a  child  sees  pageants  pass  him,  not  pleased  the 
less  because  he  does  not  comprehend  them.  It  was  curious 
to  think,  however,  that  the  chant  which  died  away  as  I  went 
out,  was  waking  echoes,  which,  a  thousand  years  before,  had 
answered,  just  as  solemnly,  the  music  of  unholy  worship  as 
it  rose  to  a  false  god  \ 

After  strolling  round  the  fortress-looking  outside  of  the 
JMosque,  I  went,  at  once,  to  the  Alcazar,  of  which  nothing 
now  is  left  but  ruin.  They  use  it  for  a  prison,  and  it  looks 
as  if  it  had  been  made  for  one.  I  gathered  a  few  flowers 
from  the  modern  garden,  where  the  sweet  groves  of  the 
Caliphs  used  to  flourish,  and  which  still  commands  a  fine 
view  of  the  river  and  the  ponderous  old  bridge.  My  busi- 
ness finished,  then,  I  made  my  way  back  to  the  Fonda, 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  261 


along  the  filthiest  streets,  among  the  dirtiest  people,  houses, 
dogs,  and  donkeys,  I  had  seen  in  Spain.  The  only  sign  of 
true  vitality  that  met  me  in  the  city,  was  a  noisy  school- 
room, through  whose  open  windows  I  could  see  and  hear  a 
host  of  children,  humming  their  rudiments  and  making  faces 
at  their  books.  They  will  have  need  of  all  that  they  can 
learn,  to  rnend  the  fortunes  of  their  town,  for  it  is  now,  to 
all  intents  and  purposes,  a  poor,  sad  ruin,  tumbling  still  fur- 
ther to  decay.  In  speaking  of  the  bread  affairs  of  Seville, 
I  mentioned  the  profound  philosophy  with  which  the  city 
senators  of  Cordova  had  laid  their  grim  embargo  on  all  grain. 
Bread  was,  in  consequence,  quite  cheap,  I  found,  and  well  it 
was  so,  for  otherwise  the  people  must  have  starved.  I  had 
a  conversation  on  the  subject  with  a  fellow- traveler,  on  my 
return,  and  asked  him  how  the  Government  could  tolerate 
the  silly  burgesses  in  meddling  with  the  commerce  of  the 
realm.  "  Had  the  ayuntamiento  such  a  right  ?"  "  No 
right,"  he  said,  "  but  power  a  plenty."  "  Is  there  no  rem- 
edy ?"  I  asked,  "  no  way  of  appealing  to  Madrid  ?"  "Oh, 
yes,  you  could  appeal ;  but  then  the  remedy  would  come,  como 
y  cuando  Dios  quisiera — when  and  as  Providence  might 
happen  to  vouchsafe  it !"  And  then  he  went  on  swearing 
at  the  men  in  power  (as  almost  every  body  did),  for  letting 
all  that  most  concerned  the  people  go  to  waste,  while  they 
provided  place  and  pension  for  themselves. 

When  I  reached  the  Fonda,  the  Madrid  diligence  had 
just  arrived,  with  the  berlina  (or  coup6)  empty,  and  only 
one  man  in  the  interior.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  quite 
anxious  to  be  back  in  Seville  the  next  day  afternoon,  for 
they  had  advertised  a  bull-fight,  and,  like  all  moral  travelers, 
I  had  a  strong  desire  to  see  one.  I  therefore  took  my  seat 
for  the  return-trip,  on  the  instant,  and  at  eleven  o'clock  heard 
the  postillion's  whip  announce  his  readiness.  I  had  been  in 
Cordova  four  hours — but  like  Barney  O'Reardon's  sleep, 
"  I  paid  attintion  to  it !" 

As  we  drove  out,  I  took  a  better  and  more  careful  view 


2G2  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

of  things  about  me,  than  my  drowsy  eyes  permitted  in  the 
early  morning.  The  city  lies  in  a  broad  basin,  watered  by 
the  Guadalquivir.  Behind  its  walls,  with  a  fine  convent 
here  and  there  in  its  brown  bosom,  the  Sierra  Morena  is  the 
limit  of  the  valley.  On  the  other  sides,  it  widens  a  great 
deal,  and  far  upon  the  right,  as  you  go  southward,  you  see 
the  heights  of  Almodovar,  wearing  their  crown  of  towers. 
The  river  runs  along  the  walls  of  Cordova,  and  is  quite 
bold  before  the  gates.  Two  or  three  round  old  Moorish 
mills,  of  dark  gray  stone,  are  built  out  in  the  stream,  and 
have  a  strange  and  picturesque  effect.  The  city  smacks  of 
age,  in  all  respects  :  in  wall  and  tower,  as  well  as  crumbled 
dwellings.  I  missed  the  multitude  of  palm-tre'es  told  of  in 
the  books,  and  as  they  had  become  a  part  of  Abderrahman's 
story,  in  my  mind,  the  picture  disappointed  me.  Yet  after 
all,  when  we  had  mounted  once  again  the  Cuesta  de  los 
Visos,  and  I  took  a  farewell  gaze,  the  city,  hills,  and  valley, 
with  the  river  and  the  winding  road,  appeared  so  glad  and 
lovely  in  the  sunshine,  that  I  felt  how  little  kings  and 
caliphs  have  to  do,  in  fact,  with  any  thing  that  can  abide, 
The  flowers  that  carpeted  the  road-side,  that  bright  day, 
turned  up  their  faces  radiantly  toward  me,  a  plain  and  poor 
republican,  whose  country  was  not  thought  of,  when  Hixem 
hung  his  lamps  of  gold.  They  never  smiled  more  brightly,  I 
am  sure,  upon  that  awful  potentate  himself,  although  he  had  an 
endless  roll  of  fee-farm  rents  in  Paradise.  There  is  a  moral  in 
the  fact,  though  perhaps  the  reader  may  have  heard  it  before. 
The  town  of  Carlota  which  we  had  passed,  by  night,  on 
the  way  up,  attracted  my  attention,  as  one  of  the  colonies 
or  nuevas  poblaciones,  founded  by  poor  Olavide,  in  the  days 
of  Charles  III.,  in  furtherance  of  his  plan  of  agricultural 
reform.  It  lies  upon  a  hill,  beneath  which  a  broad  valley 
shows  some  relics,  yet,  of  what  was  done  for  cultivation  during 
the  brief  time  of  the  experiment.  The  reward  of  Olavide 
was  a  dungeon.  He  might  have  expected  as  much  from 
the  ever  grateful  House  of  Bourbon. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  263 

We  halted  at  Ecija,  before  sunset,  and  rested  for  some 
hours.  The  Alameda  was  blooming  and  beautiful ;  full  of 
gay  and  happy  looking  people.  It  lies  beside  the  Xenil, 
whose  cold  waters,  coming  from  the  snowy  mountains  of 
Granada,  were  scattered,  by  a  noria,  through  the  gardens, 
and  diffused  a  freshness  and  fertility  quite  wonderful  to  feel 
and  see.  We  found  the  good  people  at  Ecija  in  a  great 
deal  of  gossip  and  excitement  on  account  of  an  arrival  that 
morning.  A  Silla  de  Posta  had  passed  through,  they  said, 
at  early  dawn,  containing  a  very  unhappy -looking  and  pale 
gentleman,  who  was  going  post-haste,  under  guard,  to  Cadiz, 
as  a  prisoner  of  state.  The  escort  would  give  no  account  of 
him,  and  as  the  Silla  remained  only  long  enough  to  change 
horses,  the  gossips  had  been  altogether  unable  to  fathom  the 
mystery.  Some  supposed  that  it  was  General  Serrano,  who 
had  been,  for  some  time,  causing  a  good  deal  of  jealous  dis- 
cord between  the  queen  and  her  royal  spouse.  Others 
thought  it  might  be  the  king-consort  himself,  from  whom  it 
was  generally  believed  that  her  Majesty  was  quite  willing  to 
be  divorced — and  in  regard  to  whose  fate  the  public  mind 
was  considerably  exercised,  it  being  supposed  that  Mr. 
Bulwer  and  the  Ingleses  were  anxious  for  a  new  match. 
When  I  got  back  to  Seville,  however,  I  learned  that  the 
prisoner  was  neither  king  nor  general,  but  the  young  Havana 
poet,  Giiell  y  Rente,  who  had  been  making  love  to  one  of 
the  Infantas,  a  cousin  of  the  queen.  The  poor  girl  was  a 
daughter  of  the  Infante  Don  Francisco,  whom  every  body 
admitted  to  be  a  great  brute,  in  mind  and  habits.  His 
house  was  ordered  so  entirely  with  reference  to  his  own 
sensual  pleasures,  that  the  Infanta  could  hardly  live  in  it 
with  decency,  and  Giiell  being  a  man  of  talent,  and  of  good 
looks  and  good  manners  besides,  found  no  great  difficulty  in 
persuading  her  to  leave  it.  The  affair  was  discovered  one 
night,  and  about  five,  next  morning,  the  poet  was  arrested. 
Among  his  papers  was  a  letter  from  the  Infanta,  which 
sealed  his  guilt.  In  an  hour,  he  was  duly  stowed  away  in 


264  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

the  mail-coach  and  sent  off  to  Cadiz,  to  be  shipped  for 
Havana  with  all  convenient  dispatch.  He  afterward  man- 
aged to  get  back  to  his  lady-love  and  marry  her,  in  spite 
of  majesty,  so  that  the  royal  family,  for  once  and  against 
their  will,  can  boast  some  connection  with  a  man  who  has 
brains. 

We  breakfasted  the  second  morning,  beyond  Carmona,  in 
what  had  been  a  convent-sacristy.  My  fellow-traveler,  in 
the  interior,  went  with  me  round  the  building.  We  found 
our  mules  stabled  comfortably  in  the  quondam  cloisters !  It 
was,  perhaps,  a  little  after  noon,  when  we  rattled  once  more 
up  the  Seville  streets.  A  gay  young  majo,  who  met  us  near 
the  gate,  informed  the  mayoral,  to  my  dismay,  that  the 
authorities  had  put  the  bull-fight  off.  There  had  been 
further  threatenings  of  riot  in  the  bread-department,  and  the 
heroes  of  the  ring  would  draw  too  large  a  crowd  together. 
I  spent  my  afternoon,  however,  quite  pleasantly,  in  wander- 
ing through  the  grounds  of  the  Alcazar,  which  were  open 
that  day  to  the  public.  An  English  gentleman  went  with 
me,  who  had  come  to  Seville  while  I  was  away.  His  views 
of  orange-groves  and  gardens,  with  their  fish-ponds,  were  quite 
peculiar.  "  Lud  !  lud  !"  he  said,  "  how  they  must  breed 
mosquitoes  !"  And  so  they  did,  in  fact. 

Few  travelers  have  any  praise  to  spare  for  Spanish  roads 
and  road-conveyances.  In  justice,  therefore,  and  to  praise  the 
bridge  that  bore  me  safely  over,  I  must  say  something  of  rny 
diligence.  The  carriage  itself  was  a  capital  one,  and  but  for 
the  usual  continental  outfit  of  fleas,  would  have  been  as  com- 
fortable as  any  public  conveyance  I  have  seen.  Its  accom- 
panying troops  were  a  mayoral,  or  conductor,  a  postillion,  and 
a  zagal — an  untranslatable  person,  whose  like  is  not  to  be 
found  in  English.  The  mayoral  was  an  intelligent  and 
obliging  fellow,  who  took  the  trouble  to  walk  with  me  and 
point  out  what  was  to  be  seen,  whenever  we  halted.  But 
for  this,  I  could  never  have  forgiven  him  for  sleeping  in  my 
berlina,  at  Ecija,  with  a  strange,  suggestive  woolen  cap  upon 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  265 

his  head.  The  postillion  rode  the  whole  hundred  miles  through, 
so  that  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  his  understanding  his  busi- 
ness. I  was  told,  indeed,  more  than  once,  that  the  same 
postillion  will  sometimes  make  the  whole  journey,  from  Madrid 
•  to  Cadiz,  catching  only  three  or  four  hours  of  sleep  each  night. 
The  zagal  was  the  same  wild,  rattling,  swearing  devil,  that 
all  the  travelers  describe  ;  now  on  the  box ;  now  on  the 
road  ;  behind  the  diligence  this  moment,  and  between  the 
galloping  beasts  the  next ;  kicking  this  one,  cuffing  the  other, 
and  cursing  all !  Sometimes  we  had  a  team  of  a  dozen 
mules — fleet  and  capital  roadsters ;  and  the  postillion  being 
mounted  on  one  of  the  leaders,  it  required  considerable  effort 
to  keep  the  rear-guard  up  to  their  work.  On  these  occasions 
the  zagal  would  diversify  the  exercises,  by  throwing  stones 
at  the  delinquents,  while  the  mayoral  would  apply  his  big 
whip  to  the  unhappy  macho  (the  male  mule  at  the  near 
wheel),  who,  whether  he  went  ill  or  well,  was  always  flogged 
for  the  sake  of  the  example.  "  Before  God,"  cried  Sancho 
Panza,  when  Merlin  said  he  must  be  lashed,  "if  Mr.  Merlin, 
can  find  no  other  way  of  disenchanting  my  lady  Dulcinea 
del  Toboso,  enchanted  may  she  go  to  her  grave,  say  I  !" 
Perhaps  the  macho  would  have  expressed  the  sarne  senti- 
ments, had  he  been  able  ;  but  as  it  was,  his  luckless  hide 
paid  all  the  penalty.  A  deal  of  extraordinary  driving  was 
performed,  as  may  be  well  imagined,  by  this  division  of  labor 
and  combination  of  processes  :  yet  the  road  was  good,  the 
pace  a  run,  and  the  sport  both  novel  and  exciting ;  so  I 
parted  from  both  man  and  beast,  in  the  best  humor,  wishing 
only  that  the  one  might  never  need  to  travel  faster,  nor  the 
other  to  swear  harder  ! 

M 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Andalusian  Jockeys — Start  for  Ronda  Fair — Our  Horses,  Guide,  and 
Equipments — Andalusian  Costume — Appearance  of  the  Country — 
Utrera — Bull-fighters — The  Race  and  the  Carbonero — Coronil — 
The  Venta  and  the  Fleas — Puerto  Serrano  and  the  Mountains — 
Our  Cavalcade — Mountain  Crosses — The  Picador  and  his  Arab — 
Almodonares — Zahara — Venta  Nueva — Morning  Ride  to  Ronda 
— The  Nightingales. 

THE  time  for  Ronda  fair  was  now  drawing  nigh,  and 
Bailly  was  accordingly  commissioned  to  arrange  the  prelim- 
inaries for  the  journey.  One  of  my  English  fellow-lodgers 
and  myself  were,  to  travel  together.  Our  heavy  luggage 
was  to  be  sent  round  to  Malaga  by  the  galera  (a  stout 
wagon),  and  we  were,  of  course,  to  take  with  us  only  the 
light  furniture  which  our  servant  could  conveniently  carry 
on  his  horse.  We  had  heard  and  read  a  good  deal  of  An- 
dalusian jockeys  and  their  tricks,  and  had  therefore  made  it 
a  sine  qua  non  that  we  should  have  fair  and  full  view  of 
our  chargers,  at  least  one  day  in  advance.  At  the  hour 
appointed,  our  squire  presented  himself.  He  announced 
himself  as  Pepe  Salinas  (Anglicb,  Joe  Salt-pits)  at  our 
service,  but  regretted  exceedingly  that  the  horses  had  not 
yet  arrived.  They  were  fresh  beasts,  he  said,  and  had  not 
yet  come  in  from  the  country.  We  afterward  learned  that 
they,  in  fact,  were  in  the  country  at  the  time,  but,  unfor- 
tunately, were  out  at  hire  to  very  hard  riders,  who  by  no 
means  improved  their  capacity  for  our  purposes.  Pepe 
gave  us  «  his  honor,"  However,  that  there  was  no  need  of 
our  seeing  them,  for  we  should  certainly  be  delighted  next 
day  when  they  would  make  their  appearance.  "  You  will 
say,  sir,"  he  assured  me,  "  that  they  are  not  livery  horses ; 
and  when  you  see  the  one  on  which  I  am  to  carry  the  lug- 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  267 

gage,  you  will  hardly  stop  crossing  yourself,  he  is  such  a 
gentleman  of  a  horse  !" — ("  Dird  vmd.  zefio,  que  no  zon 
cabayo  de  alquile.  Eze  que  yo  voy  a  montar  con  el  equi- 
paje,  va  vmd.  a  quedar  hasiendo  cruses  a  ve  que  zeno 
cabayo  e  /")  There  was  no  answering  that  course  of  rea- 
soning, and  we  did  our  best  to  nurse  our  patience  till  the 
morrow. 

It  was  on  Monday,  May  17th,  that  we  were  'to  start, 
and  I  spent  the  afternoon  of  the  day  previous  in  the  Deli- 
cias  and  the  Cathedral.  I  had  never  seen  the  latter  to  so 
much  advantage  before — perhaps  because  I  had  made  up 
my  mind  that  I  .should  never  see  it  again.  Beautiful, 
grand,  solemn  temple  !  I  had  visited  it  at  all  hours,  and 
had  never  gone  into  its  neighborhood  without  going  through 
it.  I  had  seen  it  when  the  morning  sunlight  was  stream- 
ing through  the  eastern  windows,  and  the  painted  rays  that 
flowed  in  through  the  dome,  first  kissing  the  lofty  crucifix 
beneath  it,  ran  down  the  lengthened  nave,  and  faded  into 
common  light  before  the  altar  of  the  Guardian  Angel.  I 
had  seen  it,  again,  in  the  full  radiance  of  noon,  and  in  the 
early  afternoon — when  the  sun  was  *waxing  dim — when 
twilight  came  on — and  when,  at  last,  the  canopy  of  night 
hung  heavy  on  the  arches — and  whether  with  a  few  strag- 
gling devotees  before  the  silent  shrines,  or  in  the  full  swell 
of  grandest  worship,  I  had  seen — I  shall  see,  nowhere — the 
presence  of  religion  made  so  palpable  !  I  could  not  help 
wondering,  as  its  doors  closed  for  the  last  time  upon  me, 
that  Angelo  could  have  stooped  to  paint  "Last  Judgments," 
when  he  could  build  cathedrals  ! 

Early  on  the  morning  of  our  contemplated  departure, 
came  Pepe  Salinas,  with  his  horses  at  which  I  was  to  cross 
myself.  As  might  have  been  expected,  my  beast  was  lame. 
Pepe  at  first  denied  the  fact  stoutly,  but  it  was  soon  demon- 
str§ted,  and  he  thereupon  confessed  and  avoided,  informing 
me,  confidentially,  that  he  had  known  the  horse  a  long  while, 
and  that  although  he  would  occasionally  be  a  little  confused 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 


at  the  start,  he  was  always  sure,  when  he  got  warm,  to  go 
like  light  and  even  faster — "  Mas  que  la  lus,  zeno  /"     I  of 
course  declined  relying  for  locomotion,  upon  so  precarious 
an  element  as  caloric,  though  before  a  hetter  brute  could  be 
procured,  the  sun  had  begun  to  shine  in  a  sufficiently  An- 
dalusian  manner  to  make  the  experiment  a  very  easy  one. 
My  fellow-traveler,  in  the  mean  time,  had  been  doing  him- 
self up  in  full  majo  costume,  as  far,  that  is  to  say,  as  a 
foreigner  is  capable  of  the  achievement.      He  answered  our 
summons,  in  the  jauntiest   possible  calanes,  with   a   rich, 
short  vest  and  jacket,  of  bright  colors,  bedizened  with  velvet 
and  shining  with  silver  tags  and  buttons.      The  English,  by- 
the-by,  have  a  singular  fondness  for  putting  on  Andalusian 
finery,  not  only  because  it  is  very  becoming  to  a  good  figure, 
but  because  it  is  generally  believed  to  be  acceptable  to  the 
natives.      There  is,  however,  a  distinction  to  be  made  as  to 
the  latter  part  of  the  affair.       While   the  costume,   as  a 
whole  and  when  worn  in  perfect  keeping,  is  the  pride  of  the 
Andalusians,  it  is  a  subject  of  very  great  amusement  to  them, 
when   ill  matched  or  but  partially  adopted.      "  Andar  de 
chaqueta" — to  go  in*  a  jacket — is  the  phrase  for  complete 
undress.    The  calanes,  ihefaja  or  sash,  the  jacket,  breeches, 
and  leggings,  all  go  together  ;  but  to  wear  either  of  them, 
with  the  remainder  of  the  dress  in  French  or  English  fashion, 
is  held  as  perfectly  ridiculous,  as  a  lady's  riding-habit  would 
be  at  a  ball,   or  pumps  and  silk  stockings  at  a  fox-chase. 
You  must  dress  in  Andalusian  style,  altogether,  or  not  at  all. 
Straw  hats  not  being  used  in  Spain,  and  the  sash  of  the 
natives  being  considered  advantageous,  as  a  preventive  from 
inflammatory  disease  in  some  cases,  the  English  residents  or 
tourists  will  sometimes  make  their  appearance  in  calanes, 
faja,   and  frock-coat,   than  which  nothing  can  seem  more 
outlandish  to  the  crowd.     Not  a  Chinese  in  the  streets  of 
London,  with  his  tail,  and  trowsers,  and  a  fashionable  coat ; 
not  an  Indian,  in  New  Orleans,  with  regimental  hat  and 
blanket,  appears  more  perfectly  absurd,  than  a  foreigner  in 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 


Seville,  with  his  modifications  of  the  majo.  Some  of  the 
Frenchmen  who  followed  the  Due  de  Montpensier  to  Madrid, 
at  the  time  of  his  marriage,  assumed,  I  was  told,  such  pro- 
vincial costumes  as  suited  their  tastes,  and  made  their  ap- 
pearance in  bare  legs  and  hempen  sandals,  to  the  imm«nse 
delight  of  the  mob,  who  were  glad  of  an  opportunity  to 
deride,  where  they  would  have  "  lynched"  if  they  had  dared. 
At  Ronda,  as  I  saw  afterward,  the  people  are  in  the  habit 
of  assembling  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  the  evening 
before  the  bull-fights,  in  order  to  see  the  Ingl'eses  as  they 
come  up  from  Gibraltar.  A  good  many  of  the  officers  fre- 
quently attend  the  fair,  and  the  opportunity  is  taken,  by  any 
travelers  who  may  be  in  the  neighborhood,  to  follow  in  their 
train.  There  is,  therefore,  a  pretty  fair  supply  of  amuse- 
ment to  the  laughter-loving  majos — and  indeed,  without  any 
very  accurate  knowledge  of  Andalusian  congruities,  a  man 
must  have  a  dull  sense  of  the  ridiculous,  who  does  not,  in 
his  walks  about  the  town,  meet  caricature  enough,  among 
the  strangers,  to  answer  all  the  purposes  of  the  mountebank 
department  usual  on  such  occasions.  Any  one  who  would 
play  the  Andaluz  among  the  Andalusians,  may  make  up  his 
mind  to  meet,  at  every  corner,  a  criticism  which  it  is  easier 
to  despise  than  escape.  There  is  not  a  horse-boy,  but  sees 
through  such  disguises,  as  certainly  as  an  Attic  fish-woman, 
could  detect  the  accent  of  the  most  eloquent  provincial. 

It  was  half-past  six,  and  hot  enough,  when  we  finally  set 
our  little  caravan  in  motion.  My  companion-  and  myself  had 
each  a  cloak  strapped  to  his  pommel,  and  nothing  more  in 
the  shape  of  luggage.  Mr.  Pepe's  steed  was  equipped  with 
the  aparejo  redondo  of  the  contrabandists,  on  which  he 
stowed  our  carpet-bags,  and  finally  perched  himself.  The 
aparejo  is  a  large  stuffed  frame,  covering  the  whole  back  of 
the  animal.  A  manta  or  cotton  blanket,  of  bright  colors, 
gayly  fringed,  is  spread  upon  it.  The  burden  is  then  ar- 
ranged with  due  regard  to  equilibrium,  and  over  all  again, 
another  manta  finishes  the  outfit.  There  are,  of  course,  no 


270  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

stirrups,  and  the  rider  sits  as  may  best  please  him,  but  gen- 
erally with  the  right  knee  bent  above  the  pommel,  as  our 
women  ride.  Pepe,  however,  gave  up  the  post  of  honor  on 
his  pillion,  to  a  pair  of  stout,  well-filled  alforjas,  and  kept 
moving  back  and  forth,  as  you  have  seen  a  prudent  skipper, 
on  the  first  day  of  a  voyage,  traverse  his  craft  from  stem  to 
stern  to  make  all  tight  and  ready  for  a  storm. 

We  did  not  take  the  turnpike  as  usual,  through  Alcala, 
but  followed  Pepe  from  bridle-path  to  bridle-path  across  the 
country,  admiring  the  dexterity  with  which  he  managed  to 
lose  his  way  at  every  turn.  We  struck  the  road  at  a  small 
venta,  about  half-way  to  Utrera,  and  my  companion,  having 
been  too  busy  with  his  majo  dress  to  breakfast  before  we 
started,  insisted  on  trying  the  hospitality  of  the  poor  hovel. 
"Was  there  any  bread?"  we  inquired.  "No!"  "Any 
ham?"  "No!"  "Eggs?"  "No!"  " What  was  there, 
then  ?"  "  Oh  !  aguardiente  (bad  brandy),  at  the  service 
of  your  worships  !"  Of  such  refreshments,  of  course,  our 
worships  would  have  none,  and  there  was  no  resource  but 
to  make  descent  on  the  alforjas.  Happily  some  laborers 
came  by,  with  big,  coarse  loaves,  which  they  were  willing 
to  share,  for  a  consideration  ;  and  my  companion,  seated  on 
the  ground,  under  the  shadow  of  the  eaves,  managed  to  make 
a  table  of  a  rude  stool,  and  learn  his  first  lesson  of  what  is 
called  "  roughing  it,"  in  the  expressive  vernacular  of  the 
West. 

The  country  between  Seville  and  Utrera  is  level,  and  the 
turnpike  excellent,  for  it  is  the  post-road  to  Cadiz.  We 
passed  a  great  deal  of  fine  grain,  and  abundant  orchards  of 
oranges  and  olives,  but  the  predominant  characteristic  was 
mere  desolation.  The  dehesas,  or  wastes,  which  fatigued 
the  eye  by  their  monotonous  extent,  were  covered  with  wild 
grass,  weeds,  and  flowers,  varied,  here  and  there,  by  patches 
of  stunted  but  green  shrubbery.  Of  farm-houses  there  were 
very  few.  The  farms  (haciendas)  seemed  very  large,  and 
the  houses,  when  there  were  any,  were  apparently  on  a  large 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  271 

scale ;  the  presses  and  depositories  of  the  oil  and  olives,  being 
generally  under  the  same  roof  with  the  dwelling.  A  stout 
wall  commonly  ran  round  the  buildings,  whose  little  towers 
and  chapel-pinnacles  were  often  picturesque  and  graceful. 
Opposite  the  entrance,  there  was  sometimes  a  cross  planted, 
which  Pepe  volunteered  to  tell  us  was  to  keep  the  devil  out ; 
a  simple  prescription,  certainly,  if  warranted.  There  was  no 
shade  to  speak  of,  on  the  whole  route.  The  olive-trees  are 
of  small  avail  for  that  purpose,  their  foliage  being  light  and 
sparse.  We  met  but  very  few  travelers,  and  they^  looked 
as  if  they  were  not  out  for  pleasure.  An  occasional  muleteer 
or  donkey-driver  passed  us,  with  a  long  caravan,  whose  tink- 
ling bells  relieved  the  dreary  silence  of  the  plains.  They  carried 
charcoal  or  vegetables,  and  now  and  then  a  load  of  the  hate- 
ful cal  de  Moron — the  lime  from  which  they  make  the  white- 
wash, that  glares  on  you  so  painfully,  through  all  the  South, 
and  is  associated  in  your  memory  with  arabesques  bedaubed 
and  marbles  desecrated. 

It  was  about  eleven,  of  the  forenoon,  when  we  reached 
Utrera,  dusty,  hot,  and  weary.  We  were  to  dine  there,  of 
course,  and  followed  our  guide,  accordingly,  into  the  court  of 
the  Lion  Hotel — the  Posada  del  Leon!  There,  by  ap- 
pointment with  Bailly,  we  were  to  meet  the  honorable  com- 
pany of  bull-fighters,  on  their  way,  like  ourselves,  to  the 
Honda  merry-making.  We  had  been  commended  to  their 
escort  and  good-offices,  for,  in  the  then  existing  scarcity  of 
food,  it  was  feared  by  some  that  the  roads  might  be  unsafe. 
I,  of  course,  was  nothing  loth  to  travel  in  security  through 
the  lonely  passes  toward  which  our  horses'  heads  were  turned, 
but  my  chief  object  in  joining  the  toreros  was  to  see  the  lower 
class  of  Andalusians  in  their  glory — these  fellows  being  the 
cream  of  their  kind.  They  are  liars  and  rascals — drinking, 
dancing,  singing  vagabonds — with  all  the  vices  which  infest 
the  dregs  of  city  crowds — yet  as  clever  as  they  are  depraved — 
quick  at  repartee — graceful  improvisers  of  deviltry  and  droll- 
ery— gallant  horsemen,  and  generally  splendid  specimens  of 


272  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

manhood.  In  the  "  sal  y  gracia" — which  make  the  Anda- 
lusian  so  famous  with  his  countrymen,  the  dashing  black- 
guards have  no  rivals.  They  are  the  envy  of  the  men  and 
the  passion  of  the  women,  in  all  the  coarser  walks  of  com- 
mon life.  When  we  entered  the  Fonda,  we  found  them,  to 
the  number  of  some  fifteen  or  twenty,  lying  in  groups  about 
the  court,  some  of  them  playing  at  cards,  others  sleeping, 
others  story-telling,  and  all  who  were  awake  occasionally  cir- 
culating their  favorite  aguardiente.  Our  appearance  cre- 
ated quite  a  sensation  for  a  moment,  and  some  of  the  livelier 
gentlemen  were  disposed  to  amuse  themselves  at  our  expense, 
forthwith ;  but  the  leaders  appeared  to  consider  us  as  under 
their  guardianship,  and  received  us  with  a  scrupulous  courtesy, 
which  had  the  effect,  at  once,  of  relieving  us  from  all  share 
of  the  practical  jokes  which  they  liberally  dispensed  to  -each 
other.  The  general-in-chief  was  a  noted  matador,  Juan 
Pastor  (called  Pasto  by  these  consonant-hating  rascals),  a 
proper  shepherd  for  such  a  flock.  He  was  a  tall,  powerful, 
stern  man,  between  forty  and  fifty — a  desperate-looking  fel- 
low, and,  as  I  was  told  afterward,  quite  as  ready  with  his 
weapon,  in  a  private  feud,  as  in  the  legitimate  slaughter 
of  the  ring.  He  governed  his  followers  with  great  discretion 
and  authority,  and  when  the  jest  and  liquor  would  provoke 
a  brawl,  a  word  from  "  Zeno  Don  Juan"  would  in  a  mo- 
ment smooth  all  things  down  to  peace.  The  subalterns 
were,  many  of  them,  characters  in  their  way,  but  that  way 
does  not  partieularly  concern  the  progress  of  this  history. 

Though  the  toreros,  very  liberally,  pressed  us  to  partake 
the  viands  which  were  spread  for  them  soon  after  our  arrival, 
we  preferred  making  our  first  trial  of  road-cookery,  alone. 
The  bustling  landlady  soon  ushered  us  into  a  clean,  cool 
room,  where  she  had  bestowed  the  best  contents  of  her  poor 
larder.  For  the  information  of  travelers — whose  general 
notion  is,  that  they  can  not  leave  the  cities  in  Spain  except 
at  the  risk  of  being  poisoned- — I  may  be  pardoned  for  saying, 
that  slim  as  was  the  variety,  the  preparation  was  excellent. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  273 

We  had  a  well-conditioned  rabbit,  stewed  with  green  peas, 
a  capital  salad,  fine  bread,  and  the  best  oranges.  A  man 
might  do  much  worse  than  that,  within  a  hundred  miles  of 
Washington.  Following  the  suggestion  of  a  venerable  Span- 
ish proverb,  I  asked  the  landlady  whether  her  rabbits  had 
any  connection  with  the  feline  family.  Her  answer  is  only 
worth  repeating  in  the  original.  «  6-  Los  conejos  aqui,  Senora, 
son  gatos  alguna  vez?"  "  Gatos,  no  Senor  ;  gatas,  si!'1 
If  the  one  she  gave  us  was  a  cat,  I  commend  the  variety  to 
the  eating  public.  ^ 

The  Spaniards  are  fond  of  game,  in  and  out  of  season, 
and  you  find  rabbits,  hares,  quails  and  partridges,  very  often 
on  their  tables.  M.  Dumas  made  the  discovery,  however, 
that  they  rarely  eat  hares,  from  a  superstition  that  the 
innocent  animals  burrow  and  feed  in  grave-yards  !  This 
veritable  piece  of  history  was  taken  from  the  same  page  of 
his  experience  which  relates  the  impossibility  of  finding  a 
roastirig-spit  in  all  Madrid.  He  traversed  the  whole  capital, 
he  says,  in  search  of  one.  Two  or  three  hardware-men, 
more  highly  educated  than  the  rest,  remembered  to  have 
heard  of  such  an  instrument,  and  a  lucky  fellow  who  had 
traveled  as  far  as  Bordeaux,  had  an  indistinct  recollection 
of  having  seen  one.  Nobody,  however,  possessed  one  !  If 
the  historiographer  of  the  royal  nuptials  had  understood  a 
little  Spanish,  he  would  have  found  a  clew  to  his  difficulty 
in  a  somewhat  congenial  book,  Samaniego's  Fables.  That 
veracious  chronicler  details  the  story  of  two  casuistic  cats, 
who,  on  some  feast  day,  entered  a  convent-kitchen,  where  a 
capon  was  at  roast.  They  ate  the  bird  without  delay,  and 
then  sate  down  to  hold  an  argument,  as  to  whether  it  was 
right  in  morals  that  they  should  make  a  dessert  of  the  spit. 
They  did  not,  Samaniego  says,  for  it  was  a  case  of  conscience  ! 
He  was  probably  mistaken ;  their  consciences  gave  way,  no  - 
doubt ;  the  spit  was  eaten,  and  it  was  the  last  survivor  of 
its  kind  ! 

While  on  the  subject  of  rabbits,  it  occurs  to  me  to  note  a 


274  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

curious  passage,  which  I  casually  saw  in  an  old  Latin  quarto 
of  "  Universal  Cosmography,"  published  by  some  unknown 
Heidelberg  professor,  early  in  the  sixteenth  century.  The 
Balearic  Islands,  he  informs  us,  are  infested  by  rabbits, 
which  do  great  harm  to  field  and  crops.  They  were  not  in 
the  islands  from  the  beginning  of  creation,  but  all  sprang 
from  a  pair  which  were  carried  there  by  chance.  After  some 
years,  they  became  so  numerous  and  noxious,  that  the  inhab- 
itants were  forced  to  take  the  opinion  of  the  Romans,  as  to 
the  best  mode  of  ^tting  rid  of  them — for  they  filled  the 
whole  land,  farms  as  well  as  houses.  The  Romans  advised 
their  allies  to  provide  themselves  with  "  cattos  silvestres" 
(wild-cats,  I  suppose,)  from  Africa,  and  send  them  into  the 
burrows  of  the  conies,  either  to  pull  the  denizens  out  with 
their  claws,  or  drive  them  forth  where  the  hunters  could  take 
them.  "Quod  et  factum  est,"  says  the  professor. 

About  four  in  the  afternoon,  we  started  in  procession  from 
Utrera,  a  good  many  of  our  escort  considerably  the  worse 
for  aguardiente,  and  nearly  all  of  them  mounted  on  the 
wretched  brutes  that  were  to  be  the  victims  in  the  bull- 
fights. The  country  was  more  hilly  than  that  we  had 
gone  over  in  the  morning,  but  bore  the  same  general  appear- 
ance of  agricultural  neglect.  Nevertheless,  the  ride  was 
pleasant  and  diversified,  for  the  cavalcade  was  numerous 
and  merry  and  the  pace  decidedly  more  brisk  than  any  thing 
that  could,  in  reason,  have  been  predicated  from  the  looks 
and  condition  of  our  horses.  It  was  greatly  marred,  how- 
ever, by  an  unhappy  accident,  which  served  to  point  the 
eternal  moral  that  Father  Mathew  preaches.  Two  of  the 
most  boisterous  of  our  people  had  boasted  of  their  steeds  and 
horsemanship,  in  rivalry,  until  nothing  but  a  race  could 
settle  the  dispute.  If  they  had  merely  broken  their  own 
necks,  the  calamity  would  have  been  sad,  but  not  insuffera- 
ble. They  managed,  however,  to  run  over  a  poor  oarbonero, 
who  was  coming  up  the  road,  on  a  small  donkey,  heavily 
laden  with  charcoal.  Down  went  beast  and  rider  in  an 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.     .  275 

instant,  and  there  both  lay,  as  if  forever.  We  all  galloped 
up  in  haste,  and  raised  the  wretched  man,  who  seemed  full 
sixty  years  of  age.  With  difficulty,  and  very  slowly,  he-re- 
gained  his  consciousness,  but  scarcely  found  voice  enough  to 
make  complaint,  though  there  was  a  deep  cut  upon  his 
forehead,  and  he  was  evidently  bruised  severely.  After 
some  time,  we  set  the  donkey  on  his  legs  again,  refilled 
his  panniers,  put  the  old  man  in  his  seat,  and  sent  them  on 
their  way.  I  observed  that  when  the  carbonero  held  his 
hand  out  to  receive  the  silver  that  was  given  him,  it  was 
quite  cold  and  bloodless,  and  he  took  the  money  listlessly, 
though,  in  his  life,  before,  he  probably  had  never  seen  so 
much  at  once.  I  watched  him,  therefore,  as  far  as  I  could 
see,  expecting  he  would  fall  at  every  instant ;  and,  though 
he  managed  to  retain  his  seat,  my  blood  runs  cold  at  think- 
ing what  may  have  been  the  sequel  of  the  story.  If  he  got 
well,  and  had  lived  where  men  enjoy  the  common-law,  and 
that  "  palladium  of  our  liberties,"  the  trial  by  jury,  what  a 
charming  case  it  would  have  been,  for  an  action  sounding 
in  damages  ! 

The  shades  of  evening  were  gathering  around  the  ruined 
towers  of  Coronil  as  we  went  into  the  town.  Pepe  had  told 
us  that  there  were  two  "  hotels,"  of  which  we  could  make 
choice  ;  but  when  we  reached  the  first,  it  was  so  wretched 
that  even  our  toreros  would  not  enter.  The  second  was 
but  little  better,  yet  it  was  late,  and  there  was  no  choice. 
We  entered,  men  and  horses,  beneath  a  broad,  low  arch,  into 
a  sort  of  low-roofed  court  or  corridor,  where  the  horses  were 
unloaded,  the  stable  being  just  in  front  of  the  entrance,  and 
under  the  same  roof  with  the  lodging-rooms.  On  the  left, 
there  was  a  sort  of  cuddy,  with  two  alcoves,  one  of  which 
the  landlord  and  his  family,  male  and  female,  occupied.  In 
the  other,  the  floor  of  which  was  of  rubble  or  plain  dirt, 
there  were  two  cots,  concealed  by  a  poor  curtain.  These 
were  destined  for  the  resting-place  of  my  companion  and 
myself.  We  wished  to  look  a  little  farther,  before  making 


276  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

up  our  minds  to  kennel  there,  and  were  shown  into  the  only 
other  patio,  on  which  there  opened  two  low  and  dirty  little 
chambers — veritable  dog-holes.  In  one  of  these,  two  very 
decent-looking  women  had  been  forced  to  take  refuge  for  the 
night,  and  the  other  was  appropriated  to  the  chieftains  of 
our  party — "  the  top-sawyers"  as  my  companion  called 
them.  The  private  soldiers  of  the  company  were  left  at 
liberty  to  select  the  softest  places  they  could  severally  find, 
upon  the  rough  stones  of  the  court-yard.  About  night-fall, 
we  were  joined  by  the  celebrated  picador,  nick-named 
"  Poquito  pan"  (or  "little  bread"),  and  another  matador, 
Juan  Lucas  Blanco  (called  Lucas  or  Luquilias)  who  had 
made  himself  quite  famous  by  his  exploits,  during  the  cere- 
monies after  the  Montpensier  nuptials.  He  was  a  "  beau 
jeune  homme"  as  M.  Dumas  says,  and  came  of  a  good 
family,  for  his  father  (I  heard)  had  been  garrote-d,  not  long 
before,  for  murder.  There  came  with  these  heroes  a  tight- 
built  little  fellow,  a  famous  chulo  and  a  dancer  of  high 
repute,  though  more  fat  than  bard  beseems.  He  went  by 
the  title  of  "  el  raton"  (the  mouse),  to  the  physiognomy  of 
which  animal  his  face  bore  great  resemblance.  My  com- 
panion insisted  on  calling  him  "  the  rattan,"  but  even  that 
did  not  shake  his  gravity,  which  was  of  the  most  dignified 
and  courteous  sort.  Our  company,  by  the  addition  of  these 
distinguished  individuals,  was  now  made  full,  at  all  points, 
and  the  reader  will  admit,  that  though  it  was  not  of  that 
sort  that  Mr.  Borrow  ought  to  have  selected  (as  he  did)  for 
his  purposes,  yet  to  a  layman  and  a  sinner  it  promised  variety 
and  sport.  While  we  provoked  their  compassion  by  taking 
a  cup  of  tea,  our  worthies  gathered  around  the  entrance  to 
the  venta  and  partook  of  their  chocolate  and  sausage,  while' 
crowds  of  the  towns-people  stood  open-mouthed  around,  see- 
ing how  heroes  could  eat.  The  reader  may  have  witnessed 
the  arrival  of  a  circus  company  in  one  of  our  villages^  which 
will  give  him  a  better  notion  than  I  can,  of  the  sensation 
we  produced  at  Coronil. 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  277 

Every  body  has  read  "  Eothen,"  or  at  all  events  no  one  who 
has  that  pleasure  yet  before  him  will  read  this  book  till  he  has 
enjoyed  it.  I  may  presume,  then,  that  every  one  will  remem- 
ber the  connection  between  fleas  and  "  holy  cities  :"  wherefore 
I  insist  that  Coronil  has  been  forgotten,  in  the  enumeration  of 
these  last.  Yet  Eothen  complains  of  what  one  would  think 
was  a  relief — that,  at  Tiberias,  there  were  fleas  of  all  nations 
in  congress  and  attendance.  If  he  had  tried  my  bed,  at  Coro- 
nil, he  would  have  been  glad  of  some  variety  of  execution. 
"  The  vengeful  pulga  of  Castile,  with  his  ugly  knife,"  had 
it  all  to  himself,  with  a  terrible  monotony  of  blood-letting. 
Scarce  one  ministry  of  persecutors  was  installed  and  fed, 
before,  more  Hispanico,  there  was  an  awful  pronunciamiento, 
and  another  hungry  set  came  in,  greedier  and  fiercer  !  J^ot 
a  wink  of  sleep  had  I,  in  all  that  weary,  dreadful  night.  One 
by  one,  our  bull-compelling  friends  adjusted  their  horse-fur- 
niture beneath  their  heads,  upon  the  stones,  and  one  by  one 
they  dropped  away  in  pleasant  slumber,  as  their  silent  tongues 
and  busy  noses  told  us ;  but  there  came  no  rest  to  us,  who 
needed  it  most.  What  a  relief,  when  morning  dawned,  to 
mount  and  ride  in  the  fresh  air  !  Our  chargers  were  no 
Bucephali,  as  I  have  said,  but  they  went  off  with  us,  as  if 
they,  too,  were  proud  to  leave  the  fleas  behind  them.  There 
is  poetry  as  well  as  myth,  it  strikes  me,  in  the  story  of 
the  Centaurs,  and  who  that  has  bestridden  a  fine  horse  and 
felt  the  inspiration  of  his  bounding  limbs  as  he  has  spurned 
the  lazy  earth,  can  fail  to  grant  me  that  the  steed  has  part 
in  the  heroic  fiction,  not  much  less  noble  than  the  man's  ? 

Our  ride  was  a  hot  one  indeed  that  day,  and  we  bore  it 
none  the  better  for  our  sleepless  night.  The  toreros,  how- 
ever, slung  their  gay  jackets  across  their  shoulders,  like  hus- 
sars ;  cocked  their  hats  against  the  sun,  and  made  light  of  it. 
Near  noon  we  reached  Puerto  Serrano,  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountain-range  we  were  to  cross.  Our  escort  paused  a  mo- 
ment at  a  venta-door,  to  take  in  aguardiente,  and  we  then 
ascended  a  steep  hill,  and  climbed  through  defile  after  defile 


278  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

until  we  were,  at  last,  high  up  among  the  mountains. 
Rough  as  was  the  traveling,  the  scenery  at  times  was  very 
full  of  interest.  Now,  the  hills  were  rude  and  stony,  to  the 
last  degree  of  sternness :  then,  again,  they  would  reach  down 
to  smiling  valleys,  rich  with  grain  and  olives,  or  would  spread 
out  fields  of  flowers,  skirted  by  groves  of  the  dark  ever-green 
endna.  Sometimes  the  roads  were  dangerously  steep ;  cov- 
ered with  loose  stones,  and  winding,  at  sharp  angles,  up 
among  the  cliffs.  Now,  we  would  go  down  a  path,  every 
inch  of  whose  hard  stone  had  been  cut  out  by  weary  hoofs. 
Again,  our  way  was  trod  into  the  soil,  so  deep  that,  as  we 
rode,  we  could  almost  put  our  feet  upon  the  ground  ;  so 
narrow,  too,  that  now  and  then  the  horses  would  strike  right 
or  left,  and  reel  until  they  fell  against  the  other  side.  Some- 
times a  steep  declivity  would  force  us  to  dismount  and  scram- 
ble down  a  precipice  or  two,  while  the  poor  horses,  all  accus- 
tomed as  they  were,  would  tremblingly  and  slowly  pick  their 
foothold  out  among  the  rocks  ! 

Yet  it  was  a  glorious  journey !  Hot,  perilous,  and  weary 
as  it  was,  it  was  well  worth  a  year  of  duller  life.  Every 
thing  was  new,  adventurous,  and  exciting.  Our  cavalcade, 
itself,  was  something  that  an  artist  would  have  gone  some 
leagues  to  see — its  long  array  of  horsemen  in  their  gay  cos- 
tume ;  some  of  them  well  mounted  ;  all,  fine  riders  ;  their 
bright  trappings  glaring  in  the  sun  ;  their  escopetas  (firelocks) 
at  their  saddle-sides ;  and  then  their  wild  and  merry  songs 
that  echo  flung  from  cliff  to  valley  !  Here  would  come  a 
party  meeting  us,  of  three  or  four  stout  horsemen,  gayly  clad 
and  armed  like  ours.  We  would  see  them,  sometimes,  at  a 
distance  below  us  or  above  us — and  sometimes  they  would 
meet  us  at  a  sudden  turn,  or  start  out  from  behind  a 
huge  rock  we  were  passing.  Now  and  then,  Pastor  would 
have  a  parley  with  them,  but  most  frequently  the  salutation 
was  the  short  and  courteous  one,  "  Vaya  vmd.  con  Dios" — 
or  more  briefly  still,  "  Vaya  vmd." — with  the  hat  raised. 
Sometimes  we  would  hear,  far  off,  the  sound  of  many  tink- 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  279 

ling  bells,  which  died  away  again  and  then  would  break 
on  us  anew,  as  we  would  see  a  train  of  mules  or  don- 
keys, caparisoned  in  all  bright  colors,  winding  cautiously 
along  the  dangerous  hill-sides.  Dark,  weather-beaten  cross- 
es, here  and  there,  would  for  a  moment  give  a  shuddering 
sense  of  insecurity,  as  we  would  think  of  travelers  murdered 
in  those  lonely  gorges  ;*  but  the  cheerful  talk  and  halloo  of 
our  well-appointed  company  were  a  sure  specific  for  all  such 
misgivings.  Indeed,  I  am  not  certain  that  our  numbers 
and  the  somewhat  wayward  bearing  of  a  few  among  our 
chulos,  did  not  lead  a  wary  traveler  or  two  to  think  we  were, 
ourselves,  unsafe  companions  for  a  mountain  journey.  Several 
of  our  people  would  have  made  capital  studies  for  banditti. 
I  remember  one,  especially,  a  picador  of  note  from  Alcala, 
whose  name  was  Calderon.  He  was  a  swarthy,  half- Moor- 
ish looking  fellow,  tall,  muscular,  and  graceful ;  his  fine 
form  shown  to  infinite  advantage  by  his  tight  and  elegant 
costume,  He  was  mounted  on  a  gallant  little  stallion, 
which  he  called  an  Arab,  and  which  indeed  might  have 
been  one,  in  both  its  beauties  and  defects.  Like  many  of 
the  Andalusian  horses,  it  was  cat-hammed  and  somewhat 
under  size,  but  vigorous  and  active,  with  a  bold  and  well 
arched  crest,  a  fiery  eye,  and  nostrils  wide  and  red.  The 
picador  rode  with  the  aparejo  only,  on  which  was  packed 
his  wardrobe  for  the  ring.  Sometimes,  he  sat  cross-legged 
like  a  Turk,  but  generally  with  the  right  leg  curved  in 
front  and  the  other  hanging  down  along  the  side.  The 
reins,  which  were  of  rope,  were  joined  at  a  convenient  dis- 
tance from  the  bit,  and  they  were  twisted  then,  into  one 
piece  some  two  or  three  yards  long,  which  served  him  as  a 
whip,  and  which  he  flung  backward  and  forward,  playing 
with  it  in  the  air.  Up  hill,  down  dale,  the  rascal  went,  at 

#  M.  Gautier  confesses,  that  if  it  were  the  fashion  of  his  country  to 
commemorate  all  violent  deaths,  by  marking,  with  crosses,  the  places 
where  they  happened,  there  are  certain  streets  of  Paris  which  might 
rival  any  Spanish  highway. 


280  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

any  pace  he  pleased,  the  high-bred  horse  never  once  faltering, 
the  rider  never  shaken  in  his  seat ;  and  as  he  rode,  he  trolled 
out  contrabandist  ditties  by  the  score,  and  kept  his  long 
lash  waving  to  the  measure  of  his  song.  Every  woman 
that  we  met,  he  made  brisk  love  to,  and  let  no  man  pass 
without  a  gibe.  When  he  dashed  across  the  Guadalete, 
tossing  the  rapid  waters  into  foam,  the  miller  and  his  men 
looked  out  in  admiration,  and  exclaimed,  "  Jesus, !  que 
mozo  /"  as  he  drove  his  Arab  up  the  bank. 

It  was  hot  one  o'clock,  when  we  reached  a  hamlet,  which 
they  called  Almodoriares.  The  guide-books  take  no  notice 
of  it  by  that  name.  We  found  a  venta  that  was  only  mod- 
erately wretched,  for  it  had  an  upper  story,  at  a  decent  dis- 
tance from  the  stronghold  and  main  body  of  the  fleas.  A 
mountain-stream  carne  leaping  down  the  hill  before  the  door, 
and  by  the  aid  of  its  refreshing  waters,  we  managed  to  pre- 
pare ourselves  for  salad  and  siesta — the  mid-day  exercises 
most  appropriate  to  the  place  and  season.  Like  all  the 
villages  we  had  gone  through,  Almodonares  was  very  poor 
indeed.  The  houses  were  mostly  of  one  story,  and  though 
they  were  quite  dazzling  with  whitewash,  outside,  the  ragged 
children  and  dirty  women  at  the  doors  were  sorry  witnesses 
of  filth  and  poverty  within.  Thanks,  however,  to  mountain 
air  and  mountain  water  (internally  applied),  they  looked  as 
healthy,  all  of  them,  as  if  they  had  been  Mohammedans  and 
made  ablution  part  of  their  religion. 

When  we  left  Seville,  we  had  counted  upon  reaching 
Honda  on  the  second  evening.  Don  Juan,  however,  while 
we  were  asleep,  had  called  a  council  of  his  veterans,  and 
when  we  were  about  to  mount,  informed  us  that  he  had 
determined  to  press  our  horses  no  further  that  night,  than 
the  Venta  Nueva — a  station  some  three  leagues  further  on. 
The  resolution  was  a  wise  one,  and  our  weary  bones  unan- 
imously hailed  it  such.  Our  journey  led  us,  now,  along 
the  margin  of  the  Guadalete,  which  flowed,  like  all  the 
streams  that  we  had  passed,  through  groves  of  oleanders  in 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  281 

luxuriant  blossom,  and  (what  was  new  to  me)  of  most  deli- 
cious fragrance.  Whole  hill-sides,  now  and  then,  would 
blush  with  poppies,  as  we  passed,  and  if  the  wild  thyme, 
there  as  elsewhere,  be  attractive  to  the  bees,  I  see  no  reason 
why  Hymettus  should  have  monopoly  of  sweets.  Above  us, 
as  a  sort  of  landmark  all  the  afternoon,  was  the  peak  on 
which  Zahara  stands  :  one  of  those  high  horns  of  earth  on 
which  the  Moor  so  loved  to  hang  his  turban.  Its  castle 
crowned  the  summit  of  a  rocky  cone,  to  which  it  seemed  the 
very  eagles  would  have  need  of  scaling-ladders.  It  staggered 
one  to  think  it  possible,  that  such  a  fastness  could  ever  have 
been  conquered  from  a  brave  and  warlike  people.  Yet 
Muley  Hassan  seized  it  from  the  Christians,  and  bold  Ponce 
de  Leon  was  able  to  recapture  it. 

We  reached  the  Venta  Nueva  about  sunset,  and  found 
that  it  was  full  already  of  travelers  and  their  beasts.  There 
was  but  one  room  vacant,  and  our  matadores,  who  had  spurred 
on  before  us,  had  secured  that ^ for  themselves.  As  soon  as 
my  companion  and  myself  arrived,  however,  they  very  kindly 
begged  us  to  use  it  as  our  own  ;  and  two  of  them,  in  fact, 
slept  in  the  open  air  that  night,  that  we  might  have  their 
room.  They  were  quite  used,  they  said,  to  dew  and  moon- 
light, but  they  doubted  whether  it  would  do  for  us.  Indeed, 
although  these  people  were  not,  as  I  have  already  said,  the 
salt,  exactly,  of  the  earth,  I  should  be  most  ungrateful  were 
I  to  forget  the  kindness,  courtesy,  and  even  gentleness,  with 
which  they  treated  us  throughout  our  expedition.  When 
we  were  jaded  and  would  lag  a  little,  they  would  ride  beside 
us  and  beguile  the  way.  If  Pepe  wandered  off  (as,  being 
paid  to  stay,  of  course  he  did),  they  gave  us  their  assistance 
cheerfully.  Their  bread  and  aguardiente — their  meals  and 
services — their  horses,  if  we  chose — were  at  our  service; 
all  tendered  in  a  way  which  showed  good-breeding  innate, 
and  genuine  good-will.  As  to  manners,  the  rascals  are  born 
with  them,  such  as  education  often  fails  to  give,  in  other 
nations.  You  can  rarely  find  them  at  a  loss  lor  a  happy 


282  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

compliment,  a  pleasant  word,  or  a  graceful  civility.  The 
Irish  peasant  comes  nearest  to  them,  but  they  have  his  read- 
iness and  humor,  with  better  looks,  a  finer  language,  and  a  far 
more  lofty  bearing. 

It  was  not  late  when  we  retired,  but  the  moon's  soft  bow 
was  bent  above  Zahara,  and  the  castle's  dim,  gray  towers 
seemed  to  be  resting  on  the  heavy  mists  which  rose  between 
the  city  and  our  hostelry.  Whole  caravans  of  muleteers  and 
drovers,  bound  to  Honda,  had  come  up  with  their  cattle,  and 
were  lying  in  the  midst  of  them,  asleep,  in  groups,  about  the 
open  ground  before  the  Venta.  Not  far  off,  the  rippling  of 
the  river  might  be  heard,  and  even  in  the  dampness  of  the 
air  the  oleanders  were  still  scattering  their  perfume.  Men, 
however,  must  sleep,  in  spite  of  flowers  and  moonlight ;  so, 
taking  warning  from  the  mattresses  at  Coronil,  we  spread 
our  cloaks  upon  a  platform  of  clean  planks,  and  gave  our- 
selves to  slumber  in  our  little  chamber,  with  our  hosts,  the 
matadores,  spread  all  about  ^s.  There  was  an  image  of  the 
infant  Saviour  in  the  room,  and  a  small  taper  burned  all 
night  before  it.  Now  and  then,  the  hardness  of  the  planks 
awaked  me,  and  I  stole  a  glance  around  our  sleeping  com- 
pany, whose  upturned  faces  and  weapons  visible  beneath  their 
open  vests,  looked  quite  as  strange,  though  certainly  not  quite 
so  beautiful  as  did  the  Oda  to  Don  Juan.  Neither  the  faces 
nor  the  knives,  however,  did  me  harm  or  meant  it,  and  they 
certainly  did  not  prevent  my  sleeping  till  the  summons  of  the 
dawn.  With  the  first  light,  our  company  were  all  astir,  and 
then,  to  my  surprise,  I  found  we  had  been  resting  in  a  very 
hive  of  horses,  mules,  and  donkeys.  From  under  archways 
that  I  had  not  seen,  and  out  of  holes  and  corners  and  all 
manner  of  odd  places  never  dreamed  of,  came  sallying  man  and 
beast,  after  the  fashion  that  we  see,  in  the  old  pictures,  of  their 
great  progenitors  from  Noah's  venta  on  the  waters.  The  dewy 
freshness  of  the  morning  was  on  all  things  when  we  put  our 
line  in  motion,  and  the  sun  rose  as  we  crossed  the  Cuesta  de 
las  Vinas,  the  beautiful  Mountain  of  the  Vineyards.  We 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  283 

were  entering  a  defile,  with  a  cheerful  hacienda  at  its  open- 
ing, as  the  earliest  rays  fell  on  us.  As  we  went  climbing 
on,  the  valley  seemed  to  grow  still  greener  and  more  wide 
beneath  us,  and  when  we  reached  a  scattered  wood  of  oaks 
and  walnuts,  the  music  of  a  choir  of  nightingales  was  wel- 
coming the  sunshine.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  heard 
them  sing,  and  I,  perhaps,  exaggerate  their  numbers  and 
their  melody,  but  there  appeared  to  be  at  least  a  thousand 
piping  round  us,  and  I  ceased  to  wonder  that  Procne 
should  have  mourned  so  long  for  Philomela. 

It  was  nine  o'clock,  as  we  rode  up  the  hill  to  Honda. 
The  crowds  on  watch  for  the  toreros  gave  us  a  triumphal 
entry,  but  we  left  them  in  their  glory,  and  I  sought  the 
comfortable  lodgings  which  the  kindness  of  my  friends  in 
Malaga  had,  some  time  back,  secured  for  me. 


•  CHAPTER  XXV. 

Honda  —  The  Tajo  and  Valley  —  Moorish  Relics  —  The  Fair  —  Cordo- 
vese  Horses. 


are  few  sp9ts  like  Ronda,  in  the  world.  Its  lofty 
and  imposing  site,  the  grandeur  of  the  Tajo  and  the  scenery 
around,  have  been  made  known,  by  pen  and  pencil,  to  all  the 
lovers  of  the  picturesque.  Its  history  is  made  up  of  the 
fiercest  doings  in  the  fierce  wars  of  Moslem  times,  and  there 
are  tales  of  chivalry  and  blood,  for  all  the  fastnesses  of 
its  wild  mountains.  Its  people,  still,  are  of  the  hardiest  and 
boldest  in  all  Spain,  reckless  and  desperate  in  civil  strife,  and 
furnishing  most  apt  material  for  the  robber  and  the  contra- 
bandist. The  climate  is  proverbially  healthful,  and  both 
men  and  women  are  remarkable  for  beauty,  vigor,  -and  fine 
stature. 

Upon  a  bold,  broad  hill,  surrounded  by  an  amphitheater 
of  loftier  ones,  with  a  sweet  valley  smiling  down  between, 
the  ancient  city  can  be  seen  from  far.  It  has  no  show 
of  buildings,  save  a  church  or  two,  some  convent  tow- 
ers, and  a  few  Moorish  walls  and  turrets.  Deep  through 
the  center  of  the  town  and  of  the  mountain  upon  which  it 
stands,  there  is  a  mighty  cleft  in  the  live  rock,  dividing  the 
old  city  from  the  new.  This  chasm  is  the  Tajo.  An 
earthquake  may  have  rent  it,  or  it  may  have  yawned  since 
first  the  firm  foundations  of  the  hills  were  laid.  Upon  the 
northwest  side,  the  hill  of  Ronda  rises  abruptly  from  the 
valley.  There  is  an  ancient  bridge  in  that  direction,  which 
spans  the  opening  of  the  Tajo.  Stand  on  that  bridge, 
and  turn  your  back  upon  the  town.  You  see  a  quiet  and 
not  very  copious  stream  come  gliding  brightly  toward  you, 
through  meadows  and  soft,  verdant  slopes.*  The  waters,  as 
they  near  the  hill,  begin  to  fret  among  the  stones,  and,  as 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  285 

they  pass  beneath  your  feet,  the  rocky  prison  of  the  Tajo  so 
confines  them,  that  they  foam  quite  madly.  Step  some  paces 
to  the  left,  on  terra  fa-ma,  and  you  find  a  dirty,  winding 
passage,  which  takes  you  down  among  the  caverns  of  the 
Tajo.  Still  descending,  you  come  upon  a  rickety  old  wooden 
staircase,  which  creaks  at  every  step.  By  this,  you  are 
conducted  to  a  Moorish  mill,  ancient  of  days,  and  hidden 
like  the  nest  of  a  water-fowl,  among  the  crevices  of  the 
rocks.  In  a  sort  of  cave  or  hollow,  there  is  a  basin  of 
clear,  sparkling  water,  which  makes  the  mill-wheels  go,  and 
sweeps  on,  afterward,  to  swell  the  river,  which,  till  then,  is 
but  a  trifling  stream.  This  basin,  they  call  the  mina,  or 
nacimiento  de  agua  (the  mine  or  water-source),  and  it  is 
well  worth  your  visit.  Look  up,  and  you  see  nothing  but 
a  strip  of  sky  resting  on  the  solid  walls  of  rock  which  only 
a  few  lichens  darkly  fringe. 

Leaving  your  cave  of  Montesinos,  you  stroll  up,  through 
some  side  streets,  until  you  come  upon  the  other  bridge,  which 
crosses  the  Tajo  near  to  where  it  ends.  This  is  a  work  of 
the  last  century,  a  hundred  yards  or  thereabouts  in  length, 
and  is  a  wonder  to  architect  and  mason.  You  stand  on  it, 
and  look  in  the  direction  of  the  Moorish  arch  to  which  I 
first  conducted  you — yet  so  stupendous  are  the  rocky  bul- 
warks, so  interlocked  with  salient  cliffs  and  jagged  angles, 
that  there  is  a  single  point  alone  from  which  you  can  see 
back  to  where  you  stood.  Turning  southward,  the  whole 
view  is  open.  The  Tajo  goes  on  widening,  for  a  hundred 
yards  or  more,  when  suddenly  it  stops,  presenting  to  the 
valley  down  below,  a  solid,  upright  wall  of  rock,  flanked  by 
gray,  lofty  columns.  On  the  one  side,  it  runs  round  at  right 
angles  to  the  Alameda,  from  whose  balconies  you  may  look 
down  a  thousand  feet.  On  the  other,  it  is  broken  into  rugged 
falls,  along  which  you  may  see,  far  off,  the  windings  of  a 
dangerous  road,  flanked  by  some  relics  of  a  Moorish  wall. 
In  front,  a  few  sharp  rocks  are  flung  out  on  the  plain,  and 
then  there  is  no  limit  to  the  view  of  beauty  and  fertility, 


286  *        GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

until  the  eye  rests  on  the  barren  range  which  we  had  crossed 
as  we  came  up  from  Seville.  Immediately  beneath  the  bridge, 
the  waters,  black  and  foaming,  dash  from  precipice  to  preci- 
pice, until  they  hide  themselves  beneath  dark  groves  of  wal- 
nut-trees, and  reappear,  far  off,  as  bright  and  peaceful,  as  if 
they  had  done  nothing  all  along,  but  make 

"  Sweet  music  with  the  enameled  stones." 

My  lodgings  were  upon  the  east  side  of  the  bridge,  and 
from  my  chamber  window,  which  looked  out  on  the  abyss, 
there  was  a  splendid  view,  for  one  with  a  less  dizzy  head  than 
mine.  Halfway  down,  upon  the  side  beneath  me,  were  some 
five  or  six  of  the  quaint  Moorish  mills  I  have  before  referred 
to,  and  their  small  canals,  or  races,  were  like  threads  of  silver, 
twisted  round  the  crags.  The  men  who  were  at  work  about 
them,  seemed  like  little  children,  and  I  more  than  once  mis- 
took their  donkeys  for  mere  dogs. 

Having  made  your  examinations  from  above,  you  take  a 
little  turn  upon  the  east  side  of  the  Tajo,  and  you  find  a 
donkey-path,  which  winds  down  the  declivity.  Before  you 
reach  the  first  mill,  and  hard  by  a  solitary  horse-shoe  arch,  you 
find  yourself  on  a  projecting  platform,  once  used,  they  say,  to 
thresh  the  grain.  It  stands  out  boldly,  and  enables  you  to 
see  that  what  you  took,  above,  for  a  mere  torrent,  is  a  cat- 
aract, and  that  the  hill  looms  like  a  mountain.  Go  further 
down,  and  reach  the  level  of  the  valley,  and  you  see  fall 
after  fall  above  you,  one  of  which  has  a  clear  hundred  feet 
of  foaming  water.  High  over  rock  and  spray,  the  bridge, 
with  its  enormous  piers  and  towering  arches,  seems  to  betoken 
art  triumphant,  in  the  wildest  moods  of  nature.  The  reader, 
I  am  sure,  would  willingly  forgive  me  these  details,  if  he 
could  imagine  the  bright  scene  before  me,  on  the  morning 
that  I  went  into  the  valley.  From  point  to  point  as  I  de- 
scended, new  beauties  broke  upon  me,  and  when  I  reached  the 
plain  at  last,  and  turned  my  back  on  rocks  and  torrents,  well- 
shaded  paths  led  on  from  cottage  to  cottage,  through  fields, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  287 

and  groves,  and  gardens,  cultivated  to  the  very  highest  point, 
and  rendered  fresher  and  more  fair  by  the  still  lingering  dew. 
On  my  way  down,  I  overtook  a  gentleman,  who,  like  myself, 
seemed  to  be  on  a  voyage  of  discovery.  He  had  a  servant 
with  him,  with  whom  he  was  conversing,  like  any  other 
Andalusian,  and  yet  I  thought  that  his  complexion  was  not 
exactly  such  as  Phoebus  makes  in  that  hot  country.  As  we 
went  on  together,  a  point  of  view  which  we  had  reached 
reminded  me  of  something  I  had  seen  among  the  Alleghanies, 
and  I  mentioned  it.  The  stranger  instantly  replied  in  En- 
glish, and  claimed  allegiance  from  me  as  our  consul  at  Malaga. 
He  had  resided  from  his  youth  in  Spain,  and  had  become 
almost  a  Spaniard,  in  all  but  genial  recollections  of  his  home. 
I  was,  of  course,  most  happy  to  meet  such  company,  at  such 
a  time,  and  should  indeed  be  glad,  at  any  time  and  any 
where,  to  fall  upon  so  pleasant  and  intelligent  a  gentleman. 
We  followed  on  our  walk  an  hour  and  a  half  together,  pur- 
suing beauty  under  difficulties,  over  hills  and  stones  at  times, 
but  always  and  a  thousand-fold  repaid. 

Mounting  the  hill  upon  the  west  of  Ronda,  we  found  our- 
selves among  the  live-stock,  that  had  come  to  make  a  change 
of  masters.  They  occupied  a  sort  of  rolling  plain,  outside 
the  city,  and  were  in  formidable  numbers,  and  in  every 
variety  of  breed  and  quality.  Mules,  cows,  donkeys,  sheep, 
hogs,  and  horses,  were  all  clustered,  or  penned,  or  tethered 
together,  and  it  was  almost  as  much  as  one's  life  was  worth, 
to  thread  the  labyrinth  of  heels  and  horns.  Some  of  the  black 
cattle  would  have  done  honor  to  an  agricultural  exhibition 
almost  any  where,  and  on  the  whole,  there  was  the  mixture 
of  good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  which  one  would  have  found 
in  any  country  on  a  similar  occasion.  I  was  glad  of  the 
opportunity  to  see  some  very  fine  specimens  of  the  jaca 
Cordovesa,  the  Cordovese  hack,  the  favorite  horse  of  Spain. 
They  were  round-limbed,  graceful,  and  admirably-gaited, 
though  generally  of  but  middle  size,  and  as  the  jockeys  would 
exercise  them  for  the  benefit  of  purchasers,  the  gallant  stal- 


288  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

lions  neighed  and  tossed  the  foam  about,  looking  as  if  they 
would  dash  every  thing  to  pieces,  yet  perfectly  obedient  to 
the  spur  and  rein.  Many  of  them  had  the  paso  Castellano, 
the  Castilian  pace,  as  it  is  called,  in  great  perfection.  It  is 
a  compromise  between  an  amble  and  a  walk — more  rafftd 
than  the  one,  more  steady  than  the  other,  and  for  those  stony 
roads  the  finest  gait  conceivable.  It  is  about  the  same  as 
our  favorite  "  pace"  in  America.  The  prices  varied  pretty 
much  as  with  ourselves  at  home.  Two  hundred  dollars 
would  have  bought  a  capital  nag,  of  very  fine  form  and 
action.  Where  there  was  any  particular  excellence,  the 
animal,  of  course,  commanded  a  "fancy"  price.  There  were 
a  great  many  people  on  the  ground  ;  more  sellers,  however, 
than  buyers,  by  a  great  deal.  There  they  stood,  and  lay, 
and  leant,  in  every  variety  of  group,  making  pictures  all 
the  while,  in  their  bright,  handsome  dresses — and  with  their 
cattle  round  about  them.  They  were  the  finest  articles,  by 
far  (the  men)  that  were  for  exhibition  at  the  fair. 

The  entertainments  last,  usually,  three  days.  Upon  the 
first,  they  look  around  them,  and  do  nothing.  The  second, 
they  chaffer  and  parade  their  horses.  The  third,  they  buy 
and  sell  with  all  their  might.  Horse-furniture  and  trappings 
are  the  things  most  in  demand,  and  the  supply  is  both  choice 
and  abundant.  The  streets  are  lined  with  saddles  and  bright 
saddle-cloths,  blankets  of  brilliant  patterns,  fanciful  bridles, 
saddle-bags,  and  aparejos.  A  few  old  Moors  have  come  up 
from  Gibraltar,  it  may  be,  or  from  across  the  Straits,  with 
silken  sashes,  slippers,  gaudy  handkerchiefs,  and  other  flashy 
elements  of  majo  splendor.  You  see  them  sitting  just  inside 
their  doors,  with  all  their  wares  around  them,  while  a  crowd 
of  peasants,  leaning  on  their  forked  sticks,  look  wistfully  or 
spend  their  fortunes  for  a  flourish.  The  saddlers  bring  with 
them  a  goodly  show  of  leather  leggins  or  long  gaiters,  worked 
and  stitched  prodigiously — the  black  ones  with  white  thread, 
I  noted — and  these  have  ready  sale.  The  majo,  in  full  dress, 
wears  the  silk  stocking  only.  The  botines,  fastened  at  the 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  289 

knee  and  ankle,  swell  out  at  the  calf,  and  give,  at  times,  a 
singular,  ungraceful  look  about  the  legs.  They  must  be, 
notwithstanding,  pleasant  and  useful  on  the  road,  and  it  •  is 
there  that  they  are  chiefly  worn. 

The  booths  at  which  the  minor  articles  were  found,  ex- 
tended from  the  great  bridge  down  to  the  Plaza  de  Toros, 
filling  the  main  street,  and  a  broad  space  just  by  the  bridge 
itself.  There  were  oceans  of  bad  toys,  rough  porcelain  and 
brass  lamps  and  candlesticks  of  most  Etruscan  shapes  ;  all 
sorts  of  indigestible  cheeses,  confectionery,  and  rude,  eatables. 
Mountebanks  went  around  with  their  fiddles,  and  blind  men 
with  pipes.  Great  "  cosmoramas"  and  microscopes  were  to 
be  seen :  Punch  and  Judy  were  upon  their  rounds :  and  high 
in  front  of  a  house  on  the  main  street,  there  was  a  canvas 
banner,  daubed  with  a  picture  of  some  "gran  fundon" 
which  was  exhibited  inside,  to  the  sound  of  hurdy-gurdies. 
They  said  that  the  attendance  was  but  thin,  yet  for  my  life  I 
could  not  see  how  Ronda  could  be  made  to  hold  more  people. 

After  wandering  all  day  among  the  crowds,  it  was  quite 
refreshing,  to  sit  at  night  in  my  cool  window,  high  above 
the  precipice,  and  catch  the  hue  of  things  by  moonlight. 
The  gay  lamps  of  the  booths  and  shops  were  glaring  while 
there  was  a  customer,  and  it  was  late  before  the  hum  of 
voices  and  the  music  would  be  silent.  •  Yet,  at  their  loudest, 
I  could  hear  the  roaring  of  the  cataract  above  them,  and 
looking  down  into  the  shadow  of  the  Tajo,  I  could  see  the 
valley  half  in  darkness,  half  in  moonlight — a  cottage  lamp 
here  twinkling  like  a  glow-worm,  or  a  flash  of  the  white 
waters  there  breaking  through  the  night.  A  Prussian 
artist,  of  great  merit,  who  lodged  in  the  same  house  with 
me,  would  linger  with  his  pencil,  in  the  balcony,  till  all  was 
still  enough  to  hear  the  mill-dogs  bark.  What  a  benefactor 
would  that  man  be  to  our  beloved  country,  who  could  per- 
suade the  schools  and  colleges  to  teach  the  boys  to  draw, 
before  they  tortured  them  in  fluxions  or  confounded  them 
with,  commentaries  on  the  Constitution  ! 

N 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

The  Bull-Fights — The  Amphitheater,  Spectators,  Order  of  Ceremo- 
nial and  Manner  of  the  Fights — Moral  of  Bull-fighting — Fondness 
of  Strangers  for  it. 

As  we  rode  into  Honda  on  the  morning  we  arrived,  I  met 
an  Irish  gentleman  whom  I  had  seen  at  Malaga,  and  who 
had  come  up,  with  his  wife,  to  spend  the  summer  in  the 
mountain  air.  He  very  kindly  told  me  that  he  had  secured 
a  box  or  balcon  for  the  bull-fights,  and  would  be  happy  I 
should  join  his  party.  Early,  therefore,  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  20th,  we  made  our  Way  into  the  Plaza,  full  of  expec- 
tation and  excitement,  as  the  reader  may  imagine,  it  being 
our  first  essay. 

The  amphitheater  at  Honda  is  a  large  one,  two  stories 
high  and  built  of  storfe.  The  galleries  are  covered  by  a 
roof  of  tiles  supported  by  stone  columns  :  but  all  the  rest  is 
open  to  the  sky.  The  distribution  of  the  parts  is  very 
simple.  First,  is  the  arena,  circular  of  course,  surrounded 
by  a  barrier  six  feet  high,  of  heavy  planks  inserted  firmly 
into  square  stone  columns.  Outside  the  barrier,  there  is  a 
corredor,  some  six  or  eight  feet  wide,  running  the  whole 
way  round,  and  opening  on  the  arena  by  four  doors.  There 
is  a  ledge  upon  the  barrier,  on  the  arena  side,  some  two  feet 
from  the  ground,  on  which  the  chulos  step,  as  they  leap  over 
when  the  battle  is  too  hot  for  them.  The  corredor,  around 
its  outer  circle,  has  another  barrier,  considerably  higher  than 
the  first,  and  from  the  top  of  that  begins  the  lower  tier  of 
seats.  These  rise,  behind  each  other,  at  a  moderate  angle, 
and  being  nearest  to  the  fight  are  favored  as  the  choice  re- 
sort of  all  the  critics  and  the  "  fancy."  The  second  tier  has 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  291 

benches,  like  the  first,  which  are  frequented,  chiefly,  by  the 
poorest  classes,  being  cheaper  than  the  range  below.  It 
has,  besides,  a  few  balcones,  for  families  and  parties,  whence 
you  can  watch  the  sport  quite  at  your  ease. 

The  doors  which  open  from  the  arena  to  the  corredor,  are 
placed  at  the  cardinal  points  of  the  compass.  That  to  the 
north,  leads  out  to  the  main  street.  Through  it,  the  men  of 
war  come  straggling  in,  as  the  appointed  hour  draws  nigh. 
They  make  their  exit  by  the  doorway  opposite,  which  leads 
"  behind  the  scenes."  From  this  last  direction  the  new  horses 
and  new  picadores  come  out,  when  they  are  needed  to  supply 
death's  ravages.  The  western  door  is  smaller  than  the  rest, 
and  leads  to  the  toril,  the  bull-house,  where  the  victim  is  in 
waiting.  Directly  over  the  toril,  the  Alcalde  sits,  surround- 
ed by  his  fellow  council-men,  the  municipal  balcon  being 
radiant  with  red  hangings.  Above  the  Alcalde's  station,  is 
another  box,  likewise  upholstered  famously,  where  sit  the 
"royal  and  illustrious"  Maestranza ;  a  sort  of  corporation 
instituted  by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  for  the  preservation  of 
Castilian  purity  of  blood,  and  now  ranging,  in  its  dignity  and 
functions,  somewhere  between  a  jockey  club  and  the  House 
of  Lords.  Next  to  these  dignitaries  sit  the  reverend  clergy, 
in  their  box  magnificent  with  crimson  velvet ;  and,  to  be 
candid,  that  box  was  better  filled  than  any  one  I  saw.  I 
looked  in  vain,  however,  for  the  "  dark,  scowling  priests"  of 
whom  Ford  speaks,  as  snuffing  autos  de  fe  in  roasted  bull- 
flesh.  They  were  fat,  comfortable  old  gentlemen,  deep  in 
the  shadows  of  their  shovel-hats,  and,  if  the  outer  man  be 
any  token  of  the  inner,  more  likely  to  enjoy,  as  all  good 
Christians  would,  the  odor  of  a  roasted  capon  than  the  fumes 
of  hecatombs  of  heretics.  .  If  Mr.  Ford  had  called  to  see 
instead  of  slandering  them,  they  would,  I  dare  say,  have 
heaped  coals  of  fire  upon  his  head,  by  asking  him  to  dinner. 
All  of  the  boxes  I  have  mentioned  are,  the  reader  will  ob- 
serve, upon  the  western  side — the  object  being  (as  the  sport 
is  always  in  the  afternoon)  to  leave  the  functionaries  com- 


292  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

fortably  in  the  shade.  There  were  two  boxes  opposite,  upon 
the  sunny  side  ;  one  occupied  by  British  officers,  up  from 
Gibraltar,  the  other  by  the  gentleman  whose  guest  I  was. 
The  sunshine  annoyed  us  terribly,  in  spite  of  screens  and 
curtains,  and  it  was  easy  to  comprehend  why  even  the  benches 
a  la  sombra  (in  the  shade),  command  the  highest  prices.  In 
the  balcon  of  the  officers,  the  trumpeter  was  stationed,  who, 
at  the  signals  which  the  Alcalde  gave  with  his  white  hand- 
kerchief, sounded,  from  time  to  time,  the  various  summons 
of  the  fight. 

Down  to  the  moment  when  the  sport  was  to  commence, 
the  arena  was  full  of  people,  walking,  talking  and  making 
themselves  merry.  When  all  things  were  in  readiness,  a 
file  of  soldiers  cleared  the  ring  ;  the  spectators  gathered  to 
their  seats  ;  the  soldiers  took  the  stations  dedicated  to  their 
service  ;  the  shouts  and  screams,  the  gibes  and  jests  (bromas 
y  burlas),  with  which  the  sovereigns  had  greeted  all  they 
did  not  fancy,  were  for  a  moment  hushed,  and  the  performers 
made  their  entry  by  the  eastern  gate,  just  opposite  the  box 
of  the  Alcalde.  First  came  the  banderilleros,  or  chulos  as 
the  people  call  them,  the  matadores  in  front,  and  all  on  foot. 
Behind  were  the  three  picadores,  mounted,  with  their  spears 
in  hand.  They  marched  across,  and  taking  off  their  hats  to 
the  Alcalde,  asked  his  leave,  as  is  the  form,  to  follow  their 
disporting.  The  Alcalde,  nothing  loth  and  having  himself 
come  on  purpose,  took  his  hat  off,  too,  and  owned  the  soft  im- 
peachment ;  whereupon  the  troop  dispersed,  each  to  his  ap- 
pointed station.  The  picadores  were  dressed  with  low-crown- 
ed, broad-brimmed  hats,  such  as  were  worn  when  Arcady  was 
but  a  sheep-walk.  They  had  very  rich,  short  jackets,  trimmed 
and  embroidered  heavily  with  gold  or  silver.  Under  their 
buckskin  pantaloons,  they  wore,  upon  the  outside  of  the  leg 
from  hip  to  ancle,  stout  plates  of  iron,  that  were  horn-proof. 
Their  spears  were  more  defensive  than  offensive,  being  merely 
long  shafts,  shod  at  one  end  with  iron,  and  finished  with  a 
sort  of  spike  or  goad.  The  footmen  wore  their  silken  and 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  293 

embroidered  jackets  like  the  knights,  but  they  had  silken 
hose  and  breeches,  and  wore  light  shoes  for  active  motion. 
On  their  heads  they  had  black  silken  caps  or  nets,  beneath 
which,  from  the  very  center  of  the  organ  of  philoprogenitive- 
ness,  sprang  a  long,  twisted  sort  of  queue.  When  they  came 
in,  they  had  rich  cloaks  slung  on  their  shoulders,  but  these 
they  threw  aside,  for  others  quite  as  gay  though  not  so  costly, 
with  which  to  feed  the  fury  of  the  bull.  Clad  in  their  glit- 
tering and  quaint  raiment,  most  of  them  finely-made,  and  all 
athletic,  active  men,  they  formed  a  gallant  and  attractive 
circle,  as  they  put  themselves  in  order  for  the  fight.  The 
picadores  ranged  themselves  upon  the  left  of  the  Alcalde, 
each  distant  about  three  lengths  from  his  neighbor.  "  The 
spear  (garrocha)  was  firmly  grasped  in  the  right  hand  ;  the 
horses  blindfold,  and  under  the  complete  control  of  the  huge 
spurs  and  terrible  curb-bits  that  they  were  ridden  with. 
The  chulos  spread  themselves  about  the  ring — some  sitting 
on  the  barrier,  and  others  just  behind  it,  with  their  bright 
cloaks  trailing  over. 

The  Alcalde  gives  the  signal ;  the  trumpet  sounds  ;  and 
then  a  servant  opens  the  toril.  Perhaps  the  bull  is  standing 
with  his  back  to  the  spectators.  If  so,  the  servant  touches  him 
with  hat  or  stick,  and  at  the  sound  of  shouting  he  comes  forth. 
Perhaps  his  head  is  at  the  very  front,  and  then  the  rnozo  has 
just  time  to  step  into  his  niche  behind  the  door,  pull  it  back 
over  him,  and  save  his  life.  The  bull  sees,  first,  the  gay  cloaks 
of  the  chulos,  and  rushes  at  them.  Their  owners  leap  the 
barrier  and  leave  him  the  red  muslin.  He  turns  around,  and 
then,  for  the  first  time,  takes  notice  of  the  picadores.  If  he 
remembers  the  sharp  pricking  of  the  herdsman's  goad,  he 
pauses  in  the  center  of  the  ring  to  make  his  calculations. 
Most  generally,  maddened  by  the  shouting  of  the  populace 
and  almost  blind  with  rage,  he  thunders  at  the  horsemen. 
They  brace  themselves  to  meet  him,  with  spear  in  rest  and 
steadied  by  the  pressure  of  the  arm.  The  horse  is  turned 
half  round,  with  his  right  shoulder  to  the  bull,  and  the  art 


294  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

is,  to  press  the  bull  off  to  the  right,  while,  with  the  bridle- 
hand,  they  bring  the  horse  round  to  the  left,  and  save  him 
and  themselves.  And  certainly,  it  is  a  splendid  show  of 
courage,  strength,  and  skill,  when  the  brave  horseman, 
who  is  first  attacked,  turns  the  foe  off  successively — the 
second  welcomes  him  with  equal  fortune,  and  the  third  has 
no  worse  luck  !  But  when,  as  often  happens,  the  desperate 
charge  has  been  too  much  even  for  skill  and  nerve,  and, 
spite  of  lance  and  horsemanship,  the  bull  has  gored  the  vitals 
of  the  beast,  and,  lifting  him  madly,  with  his  rider,  tosses 
both  against  the  earth  or  barrier — or  when,  though  well 
turned  off  at  first,  instead  of  going  on  from  picador  to  pica- 
dor,  the  bull  attacks  the  rear  of  the  poor  horse,  as  he  re- 
treats— drags  out  his  bowels — flings  the  rider  forward  and 
tramples,  in  his  fury,  upon  both — the  scene  is  frightful  to  an 
unfamiliar  eye.  Then  it  is,  the  chulos  must  come  forward 
to  the  horseman's  rescue,  and  with  their  trailing  cloaks, 
draw  off  the  bull,  to  where  another  picador  is  waiting  to 
receive  him. 

It  may  be  that  the  fallen  picador  is  stunned.  Perhaps 
his  iron  sheathing  prevents  him  from  getting  himself  rid  of 
horse  and  saddle.  Assistants  gather  to  his  aid  then,  while 
others  cheat  the  bull  away.  Sometimes  the  picador  falls 
toward  the  barrier,  and,  catching  at  it  as  he  tumbles,  lets 
his  stirrups  go,  and  with  his  strong  arm  swings  himself  into 
the  corredor,  while  the  bull  wreaks  his  fury  on  the  fallen 
horse.  Sometimes,  rushing  from  picador  to  picador,  the 
hull  prostrates  all  three,  and  then  the  whole  arena  is  alive 
with  fluttering  cloaks — the  active  chulos  toling  the  animal 
from  side  to  side,  up  to  the  very  barrier,  which  they  leap 
over,  sometimes  not  more  than  half  a  foot  before  his  horns. 
The  greater  the  slaughter  of  horses  arid  overthrow  of  riders, 
the  louder  is  the  shouting  of  the  people,  and  the  wilder  their 
applause.  Let  the  picadores  fight  shy  for  but  a  single 
moment — let  there  be  delay — the  slightest — in  the  forth- 
coming of  new  horses  to  supply  the  places  of  the  slain — and 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  295 

the  fierce  cry  goes  up,  of  "  Horses  !  horses  to  the  bull !" 
( Caballos  !  caballos  al  toro  /)  When  the  bull,  a  moment 
left  ungoaded,  turns  upon  his  fallen  foes,  and  gores  and 
tosses  them  or  their  poor  carcasses,  the  very  welkin  rings 
with  screams  of  pleasure  and  excitement,  and  the  animal 
becomes  a  hero,  for  the  moment ! 

New  horses  are  at  hand.  The  picador -es,  perhaps,  per- 
suaded by  the  manager  to  be  a  little  careful  of  their  horse- 
flesh, or  battered  into  caution  and  chary  of  their  bones,  hang 
back.  It  may  be,  that  the  bull  himself,  sick  of  the  spear 
and  tired  with  vain  pursuit  of  the  fleet  chulos,  stands  paw- 
ing the  center  of  the  ring,  or,  with  head  down  to  the  ground, 
goes  backward  from  his  foes.  Up  then  there  goes  again  the 
cry,  "  Al  toro!  caballos  al  toro!  obligalo  /"  (force  him!) 
The  picador,  excited,  moves  his  terrified,  perhaps  already 
wounded,  animal  up  toward  the  bull,  waving  his  lance,  or 
boldly  pricking  the  poor  devil  on  the  nose  or  forehead  !  Then 
there  is  another  charge  and  probably  a  dangerous  one,  for 
the  picador  is  in  the  midst  of  the  arena,  far  from  the  barrier, 
and  has  no  method  of  escape,  if  he  is  thrown,  except  to  creep 
upon  his  knees  and  hands  and  trust  the  dexterous  chulos  to 
keep  the  bull  away.  Lucky  he  who  can  escape  such  peril. 
But  the  sport  begins  to  flag.  The  neck  and  shoulders  of 
the  bull  are  red  with  traces  of  the  spear-point.  His  tongue 
protrudes,  and  he  is  tardy  at  the  charge.  The  Alcalde 
waves  his  handkerchief — the  trumpet  sounds — the  picadores, 
retiring  to  the  barrier,  now  fly  before  the  bull  as  he  ap- 
proaches, for  their  part  of  the  performance  has  been  ended. 

The  banderilleros  come  next  upon  the  stage.  They  are 
the  same  whom  I  have  called  the  chulos,  and  they  take  the 
former  name  from  the  banderillas,  with  which  it  is  their 
business  to  torment  the  animal.  These  are  wooden  rods, 
Borne  two  feet  long,  pointed  with  an  iron  barb.  The  rods, 
themselves,  are  covered  and  bedecked  with  festoons  of  cut, 
colored  paper.  When  the  signal  is  given,  bundles  of  these 
are  brought  into  the  arena,  and  the  performer  takes  one  in 


296  GLIMPSES  OFSPAIN. 

each  hand.  If  the  bull  has  been  a  cqward  or  a  sluggard, 
the  crowd  cry  "fuego  !  fuego  /"  (fire  !  fire  !)  and  they  bring 
in  banderillas,  to  the  barbs  of  which  are  fixed  fire-crackers, 
which  explode  and  hiss  on  the  poor  brute  as  the  barb  enters, 
scorching  and  maddening  him.  The  chulo's  business  is  to 
plant  one  banderilla  upon  each  side  of  the  neck  or  shoulders, 
equidistant  from  the  central  line,  as  near  as  may  be,  and 
this,  of  course,  demands  no  little  skill.  One  of  the  performers 
flourishes  his  cloak  and  wins  the  bull's  attention.  The 
other,  with  the  banderillas ,  comes  up  stealthily  behind. 
The  bull,  perceiving,  turns  on  him,  and  as  he  charges  with 
his  head  bent  down,  the  chulo  plants  his  instruments  of 
torture  where  he  will,  and  leaps,  with  wonderful  agility,  be- 
yond the  sweep  of  the  huge  horns.  Another  and  another 
follows,  till  the  bull  runs,  furious  and  lowing  desperately, 
from  one  side  of  the  arena  to  the  other,  or  leaps  the  barrier 
at  a  bound  and  rushes  round  the  corrector  within.  Now, 
the  spectators  on  the  lower  seats  take  part  in  the  perform- 
ance, beating  the  poor  beast  with  their  long  staves.  The 
chulos  worry  and  bewilder  him  yet  more — the  gate  next  to 
him  is  thrown  open,  and  he  rushes  once  again  into  the 
ring. 

Now  the  end  draws  nigh.  The  trumpet  sounds,  and 
lo  !  the  matador,  with  long,  straight  sword  in  hand,  and 
dark  red  cloak,  goes  forward  to  the  grave  Senor  Alcalde, 
makes  his  bow,  flings  down  his  cap  upon  the  earth,  and 
girds  himself  for  deeds  of  death  !  Perhaps  he  has  a  specu- 
lation of  his  own  on  hand,  and  then  he  keeps  his  cap,  until 
he  has  saluted  some  balcon  or  gentleman  he  means  to  toast 
(brindar).  That  done,  the  cap  goes  down  before  the  party 
honored,  and  the  matador  announces  that  the  bull  shall  die, 
in  compliment  to  him.  Some  largess  is,  of  course,  expected, 
when  the  deed  is  done.  The  executioner  now  waves  his  cloak 
and  flings  himself  before  his  victim.  Perhaps  the  animal  is 
wary  and  the  chulos  are  compelled  to  flit  around  and  tempt 
him  to  his  fate.  He  makes  a  charge — the  agile  matador 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  297 

steps  to  one  side,  and  mocks  him  with  the  empty  cloak. 
Another  and  another  charge,  and  then  the  thing  grows 
serious.  You  see  the  cloak  advanced  in  the  left  hand, 
and  just  behind  it,  pointed  carefully,  the  formidable  blade 
is  glittering.  The  bull  sweeps  on,  and  when  the  cloak 
is  lifted,  it  may  be  he  is  only  wounded — the  sword  stuck 
slightly  in  his  neck  or  shoulder,  and  falling  or  flying  out 
as  he  leaps  wildly  in  his  agony.  Perhaps  it  has  passed 
in  between  the  shoulders,  and  has  hurt  the  lungs.  A  few 
more  leaps  then,  and  there  is  a  staggering — a  bound  or 
two — and  with  the  blood-streams  rushing  from  his  nostrils 
he  falls  dead.  Perhaps  the  dexterous  blow  has  pierced  the 
heart,  and  then  he  falls  without  the  sign  of  blood.  If  he 
but  falls  and  lingers,  one  of  the  chulos  comes  up,  stealthily, 
behind,  and  drives  the  sword  home  to  the  hilt,  or  cleaves  the 
spine  with  a  short  dagger.  In  a  moment,  then,  you  hear 
the  tinkling  of  the  bells,  and  there  comes  in  a  team  of  mules 
decked  gaudily.  By  turns  they  drag  out  the  dead  hero  and 
the  horses  he  has  slain  ;  a  servant  covers,  with  fresh  dirt  or 
saw-dust,  all  the  traces  of  the  fray  ;  the  ring  is  cleared 
again;  the  picadores  are^once  more  in  their  places;  the 
trumpet  sounds,  and  then,  amid  the  shoutings  of  the  more 
and  more  excited  crowd,  another  bull  comes  out,  to  take  his 
turn  at  slaughtering  and  being  slaughtered. 

In  the  fights  at  Ronda,  there  were  eight  bulls,  each  day. 
The  first  day,  fourteen  horses  fell ;  eighteen  the  second.  One 
picador  was  taken  senseless  from  the  ring  the  first  day,  but 
he  reappeared  the  second,  and  fought  his  bulls  triumphantly. 
The  second  day,  our  friend  Poquito  pan  was  carried  ofFr  as 
I  thought,  dead — but,  two  days  after,  he  rode  back  to  Se- 
ville. The  matadores  made  rather  bungling  work  of  it.  Only 
two  first-rate  blows  were  given  ;  both,  the  second  day.  Un- 
happily, the  artist  toasted  the  Ingleses  upon  each  occasion, 
which  made  some  inroads  on  our  purses.  One  of  them 
seemed  well  pleased  with  his  reception,  for  he  flung  up  to 
our  box  the  ribbon,  or  divisa,  which  was  on  the  bull's  neck 

N* 


298  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

when  he  sallied  out  (the  colors  of  the  breeder),  and  which  is 
held  the  trophy,  like  the  fox's  brush.  When  the  Alcalde 
deems  a  death  well  stricken,  he  testifies  his  approbation,  by 
bestowing  the  carcass  on  the  matador,  who  forthwith  cuts 
an  ear  off  with  his  sword,  and  keeps  it  as  a  mark  of  prop- 
erty. The  perquisite  is  worth  much  or  little,  according  to 
the  market  value  of  bull-beef.  After  the  matador  has  slain 
his  beast,  he  draws  his  sword  out  from  the  wound — wipes  it 
upon  his  cloak — makes  his  bow  to  the  Alcalde,  and  then  to 
those  whom  he  has  toasted.  They  throw  their  gift  down 
to  him,  in  a  handkerchief.  A  chulo,  his  attendant,  picks  it 
up  and  hands  it  to  him,  and  thereupon  he  takes  his  leave 
with  majesty. 

The  first  day  was  a  strange  one,  from  two  accidents.  The 
one  was  not  so  rare  as  dangerous.  One  of  the  matadores 
aimed  badly,  and  his  sword,  striking  a  bone,  flew  like  a 
javelin,  some  twenty  feet,  among  the  crowd,  wounding  a 
young  man  seriously  in  the  hand.  It  might  have  slain  him, 
and  it  was  a  wonder  that  it  did  not.  The  other  circum- 
stance was  said  to  be  without  a  precedent.  One  of  the 
bulls,  worried  and  flying  from  th£  matador,  leapt  over  bar- 
rier and  corredor  and  inner  barrier,  alighting,  clear,  among 
the  benches  and  the  crowd — not  stumbling  and  blundering, 
but  erect  and  dangerous — goring  on  every  side.  Fortunately, 
it  was  the  sunny  portion  of  the  gallery,  and  the  people  were 
comparatively  few,  so  that  there  was  no  one  seriously  hurt, 
but  a  poor  fellow  whose  thigh  was  badly  ripped.  Yet  the 
rolling  down,  the  scampering  and  rushing,  were  wonderful 
to  see.  The  bull  made  at  the  soldiers,  and  they  dropped 
their  musketry  and.  ran.  Completely  master  of  the  field,  he 
made  his  way  up  to  the  topmost  bench,  and  then,  deliber- 
ately stepping  down,  went  quietly  into  the  box  above  the 
northern  or  main  entrance.  There,  being  on  a  level  with 
his  worship,  the  Alcalde,  the  bull  looked  over,  and  his  wor- 
ship, quite  as  much  astonished,  looked  back  at  the  bull.  It 
was  a  move  which  was  not  in  the  game,  and  therefore  start- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  299 

led  the  spectators  for  a  while  ;  but  they  soon  recovered. 
Some  of  them  caught  up  the  deserted  weapons  of  the  sol- 
diery, and  charged  bayonets  upon  his  bullship,  who  retreated 
to  the  topmost  bench  again.  There,  the  matador  assailed 
him  with  a  fatal  thrust,  and,  falling  like  a  stone,  he  rolled 
down  with  a  thundering  noise  into  the  corrector,  whence  he 
was  dragged  at  the  mule's  heels — a  hard  and  ignominious 
fate,  to  follow  such  an  exploit ! 

And  for  the  moral  of  all  this.  It  is  barbarous,  shockingly 
barbarous,  no  doubt — not  on  the  men's  account,  because 
they  take  the  risk  upon  themselves,  and  are  well  paid  for  it, 
and  then,  besides,  although  they  have  rude  tumbles  frequently, 
they  rarely  suffer  loss  of  life  or  limb.  Nor  does  the  bull 
attract  much  sympathy,  for  he  is  doli  capax — a  powerful, 
belligerent,  wild  beast,  able  to  protect  himself,  and  willing. 
But  the  wretched  horses,  blindfold,  and  goaded  to  their  fate  ; 
treading  their  trailing  entrails  to  the  earth,  or  kicking  at 
them  as  they  horribly  protrude  ;  now,  limping  sorely  with 
their  bruised  and  lacerated  limbs  :  now  left,  disabled,  at  the 
mercy  of  the  bull,  and  gored  so  awfully  and  often  !  It  is 
disgusting,  sickening,  brutal  to  the  very  acme.  Yet  still, 
the  crowd  shout  for  more  horses,  thinking  that  no  fight  can 
be  a  worthy  one  unless  many  horses  die,  and  yelling  applause 
at  every  pass  that  gores  a  poor  brute's  vitals  !  "  You  have 
never  seen  a  bull-fight,  ha  ?"  said  one  of  our  picador -es  to. 
me,  upon  the  road  from  Seville.  "  Never  !"  »  Ah  !  then, 
you  will  see  horses  die  !"  "  But  that's  exactly  what  I  least 
.desire  to  see."  "  No  ?"  said  he.  "  Pray,  why  not  ?"  "  Be- 
cause it  is  so  cruel,  and  so  needless."  "  Que  mueran!"  he 
replied,  spurring  his  beast,  "  sirven  para  eso.  No  valcn 
?iada.'"  (Let  them  die!  That's  what  they're  fit  for !  They're 
worth  nothing.)  And  so  the  populace  think  commonly.  I 
was  informed,  by  persons  cognizant,  that  the  picadores,  to 
gratify  the  vulgar  taste  and  make  the  feast  pass  off  with 
spirit,  will  not  only  sacrifice  their  horses  when  they  could 
with  ease  escape,  but  often  will  receive  bribes  from  the 


300  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

breeders  of  the  bulls,  to  let  them  slay  the  horses,  in  order 
that  the  breed  may  grow  renowned  for  fierceness  and  be 
proportionally  in  demand. 

Yet,  barbarous  as  is  the  sport,  one  should  be  candid,  and 
not  suppose  it  grateful  to  the  Spanish  taste  alone.  Never 
a  foreigner  omits  a  chance  to  be  among  the  first,  and  linger 
with  the  last  of  the  spectators;  and  that,  not  merely  once 
for  curiosity,  but  often  and  again  and  for  the  pleasure  of  the 
thing.  I  own  that  I  enjoyed  the  fight,  the  second  day, 
more  than  the  first,  although  I  could  but  shudder  constant- 
ly ;  and  I  defy  a  man,  who  knows  the  language  and  can 
take  part  fully  in  the  spirit  and  excitement  of  the  crowd,  to 
keep  his  feelings  from  being  swayed  by  all  the  various  for- 
tunes of  the  ring.  Strength,  courage,  skill,  and  recklessness 
of  danger,  have  something  in  them  which  commands  our 
sympathy,  let  good  sense  and  our  better  nature  oppose  what 
obstacles  they  may.  There  is,  in  the  strange  compound, 
man,  some  sad  congeniality,  I  fear,  with  qualities  we  call 
ferocious  in  the  brutes  ;  and  keen  philosophy  might  trace  to 
the  same  corner  of  our  hearts,  the  blood  which  burns  at 
mention  of  a  battle-field,  and  that  which  warms  in  gazing 
on  a  bull-fight.  The  sports  that  charm  the  multitude,  all 
the  world  over,  are  not  the  gentlest,  commonly,  and  while 
public  executions,  bear-baiting  and  bull-baiting  continue  to 
be  popular  amusements  ;  while  horse-racing  and  fox-chasing, 
the  cock-pit  and  the  pugilistic  ring,  are  christened  "  manly," 
"generous,"  etc.,  the  good  folks  who  denounce  the  "cruel" 
Spaniards,  might  profitably  call  to  mind  their  own  glass- 
houses. I  saw  an  Englishwoman  at  the  fights  at  Honda — a 
person  both  refined  and  gentle.  She  went,  the  first  day, 
quite  reluctantly,  and  well  persuaded  she  should  faint  at 
the  first  horror.  She  frequently  turned  pale,  of  course,  but 
managed  to  get  through,  by  putting  up  her  fan,  from  time 
to  time,  and  hiding  the  worst  sights.  Next  day,  to  my  sur- 
prise, I  found  her  at  her  post,  and  toward  the  close,  when 
they  let  loose  a  craven  bull  which  would  not  face  the  steel, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  301 

she  cried,  like  any  Andcduza,  "  What  a  coward  !  They 
should  set  the  dogs  on  him  !"  It  was  not,  reader,  the  good 
lady's  fault,  that  she  grew  used  to  it.  It  was  but  human 
nature,  which  even  Anglo-Saxons  are  mistaken  in  supposing 
that  they  are  above. 

Something  is  said,  by  almost  every  body,  in  regard  to  the 
supposed  effect  which  this  so  bloody  sport  has  had  upon  the 
temper  and  the  morals  of  the  Spaniards.  They,  who  have 
at  hand  the  admirable  chapter  in  which  Ford  discusses  the 
whole  subject,  will  form,  I  think,  a  juster  and  more  charita- 
ble judgment  than  has  been  the  fashion  heretofore.  As  an 
abstract  proposition,  it  is  true,  no  doubt,  that  cruelty  makes 
cruel :  that  callousness  comes  from  the  familiar  sight  of  suf- 
fering, and  much  more  from  inflicting  it.  But,  all  through 
life,  we  are  perpetually  seeing,  how  practically  possible  are 
theoretical  impossibilities,  and  how  our  abstract  truths  and 
wisest  generalities  turn  out  to  be  mere  fallacies  in  fact.  The 
gullet  of  a  trout,  we  may  suppose,  is  quite  as  sensitive,  after 
its  fashion,  as  any  horse's  flank,  and  probably  the  speckled 
innocent  feels  just  as  grievously,  in  his  cold-blooded  way,  the 
pulling  of  his  entrails  out  his  mouth,  with  hook  and  barb,  as 
can  the  horse  the  goring  bull's-horn,  or  the  bull  himself  the 
torment  of  the  banderilla.  Cruelty  is  not  greater  or  less  in 
proportion  to  the  size  of  the  animal  tortured,  or  our  philosoph- 
ical reflections  as  to  the  degree  of  his  sensibility,  and  there- 
fore the  angler  who  mangles  a  box-full  of  worms,  for  his  bait, 
during  a  day's  sport,  is,  clearly,  in  the  abstract,  the  crudest 
of  men.  Yet  who  reproaches,  justly,  with  blood-thirstiness, 
the  quiet  students,  the  grave  doctors  of  divinity,  who  take 
their  holyday  among  the  running  streams,  and  read  and 
glorify  quaint  Izaak  Walton  ?  Who  sees  a  murderer  in  the 
little  boy,  who  ties  a  beetle  by  the  leg,  impales  a  grass-hop- 
per, or  sets  his  terrier  on  the  rats  ?  No  reasonable  Christian, 
certainly — .yet,  in  the  abstract,  these  amusements  contain  the 
essential  principle  of  bull-fights.  The  fair  conclusion,  then, 
would  seem  to  be,  that  cruelty  to  trout  makes  man  trout-cruel 


302  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

only ;  that  cruelty  to  bulls  and  horses,  breeds  but  a  callous- 
ness to  all  that  happens  in  the  ring.  Not  a  step  farther 
can  the  logic  go ;  and  I  believe  the  Spanish  character  illus- 
trates, fairly,  the  truth  of  the  deduction.  The  Spanish 
women,  who  attend  these  spectacles,  are  as  gentle,  kind,  and 
feminine,  as  any  others  of  their  sex.  The  men,  as  far  as  my 
brief  sojourn  and  its  intimacies  showed  me,  are  as  full  of 
amiable  qualities  as  men  are  any  where.  "  Certainly," 
says  Widdrington,  "if  taken  in  the  mass,  no  people  are 
more  humane  than  the  Spaniards,  or  more  compassionate 
and  kind  in  their  feelings  to  others.  They  probably  excel 
other  nations,  rather  than  fall  below  them  in  this  respect." 
Ford,  speaking  of  the  bull-fights  and  of  their  consequences 
to  the  children  who  frequent  them  in  their  holydays,  observes, 
that  "  they  return  to  their  homes  unchanged,  playful,  timid, 
or  serious  as  before  ;  their  kindly  social  feelings  are  unim- 
paired. And  where  is  the  filial,  parental,  and  fraternal  tie 
more  affectionately  cherished  than  in  Spain  ?" 

It  is  but  fair,  further,  to  add,  that  a  large  body  of  the 
Spaniards  feel  and  show  the  same  antipathy  to  bull-fights 
which  is  felt  in  other  countries,  and  that,  except  in  the 
arena  of  Madrid,  the  fiestas  are  quite  rare,  and  principally 
on  occasions  of  great  note. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Journey  to  Malaga — Carratraca — The  Sulphur  Springs — The  Flowers 
and  Grain — Valencian  Reapers — Reflections  on  Andalusian  Agri- 
culture— Its  Defects  and  their  Historical  Causes — Rural  Labor  as  a 
Source  of  Patriotism  and  Prosperity — Journey  to  Granada — Loja — 
Arrival  at  Granada — Feast  of  Corpus  Christi — The  Swiss  Pastry- 
cook— Illness — The  Barber-surgeon  and  the  Doctor — Medicine  and 
Dietetics — My  Lodging — The  Noises  of  Granada — Rita  and  the 
Russian  Count — Kindness  of  the  People — The  Professor  and  la 
Presse. 

WE  started  for  Malaga,  from  Ronda,  on  the  morning  of 
May  23d.  Our  horses  were  a  sad  display  indeed,  when  taken 
in  the  abstract,  but  we  found  ourselves  mounted  and  ac- 
coutered  so  much  better  than  a  party  of  Biscayan  gentle- 
men who  joined  us,  that  we  went  upon  our  way  rejoicing. 
We  had  saddles  and  appurtenances  complete,  such  as  they 
were  :  they  had,  one  of  them,  no  bit,  another,  but  one  stir- 
rup. Our  horses  stumbled,  it  is  true ;  theirs  fell  most  un- 
equivocally, with  their  noses  to  the  ground.  All  things 
being  comparative  in  this  world,  we  accordingly  merged  our 
annoyances  in  an  agreeable  sense  of  superiority.  My  com- 
panion from  Seville  was  with  us,  rejoiced  at  having  been 
delivered,  without  bail  or  mainprise,  from  the  clutches  of  an 
old  confectioner,  his  landlord,  who,  though  he  spoke  no  En- 
glish, had  made  a  bill  out  such  as  I  had  thought  was  only 
to  be  seen  in  London.  Having  been  sent  for,  several  times 
during  our  stay  at  Ronda,  to  inform  the  landlord  what  the 
Seiior  wished  for  dinner,  I  feel  justified  in  saying,  for  the 
benefit  of  travelers,  that  a  man  can  hardly  get  along  through 
Spain,  with  comfort,  unless  he  has  acquired  the  words  which 
correspond,  in  Spanish,  with  Sir  Francis  Head's  "changer  et 
manger"  At  all  events,  my  friend's  experience  enables  me 


304  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

to  say,  with  certainty,  that  foreigners  should  try  at  least  to 
learn  the  use  and  study  the  pronunciation  of  the  word  "no  !" 
It  is  a  useful  word  in  every  language,  as  perhaps  the  most  of 
us  have  found. 

Our  journey  led  us  through  a  desolate  and  mountainous 
district.  A  few  evergreen-oaks,  thin  and  stunted,  and  a 
little  sparse,  bad  grain  were  the  only  extravagances  of  vege- 
tation. Goats  and  goat-herds  were  the  only  tenants  of  the 
wild  mountain-sides  ;  a  few  huts,  here  and  there,  solitary, 
poor,  and  dirty,  were  all  the  signs  of  human  habitation.  At 
about  half-past  one,  we  found  ourselves  at  the  end  of  eight 
long  leagues,  and  happily,  in  a  clean  and  decent  inn  at 
Carratraca,  which  is  quite  a  famous  watering  place.  It  has 
a  copious  white-sulphur  spring,  which  from  its  odor,  taste, 
and  very  heavy  deposit,  seems  to  be  more  strongly  impreg- 
nated than  even  the  Greenbriar  white-sulphur  waters  in 
Virginia.  It  springs  up  at  the  foot  of  a  wild,  stony  hill,  and 
fills  two  basins,  some  fifteen  feet  by  twenty,  each,  to  the 
depth  of  five  or  six  feet.  The  citizens  of  Malaga  frequent 
the  waters  in  the  summer  season,  and  the  place  has  all  ad- 
vantages for  health  and  pleasure.  It  lies  upon  a  hill-side, 
with  a  fertile  valley  all  around,  which  stretches  over  to  a 
range  of  stern,  gray  hills.  The  Alameda  winds  along  the 
brow  of  a  deep,  cultivated  gorge,  covered  with  fig  and 
almond  trees  and  vineyards. 

On  the  next  day,  early,  we  took  up  our  line  of  march. 
There  is  a  road,  "  practicable"  for  wheel-carriages  up  to  the 
Springs  themselves,  but  the  practicability  is  of  a  very  pecul- 
iar sort,  except  down  toward  Malaga,  where  there  is  a  capital 
turnpike.  The  first  half  of  our  journey  was  extremely  pic- 
turesque and  pleasant,  for  our  road  ran,  nearly  all  the  way, 
along  the  banks  of  the  Malaga  River,  through  groves  of 
gorgeous  and  fragrant  oleanders.  The  hill-sides  and  the 
valleys,  were  bright  with  varied  colors  ;  green  with  vine 
and  fig  tree,  oranges  and  olives  ;  yellow,  here  and  there, 
with  the  ripe  barley ;  rich  and  waving  with  tall  wheat,  and 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  305 

scarlet  with  the  bloom  of  the  pomegranate.  Every  variety 
of  superb  flowers  was  clustered  by  the  road  side  and  in  the 
moist  nooks  far  among  the  trees,  making  one  sigh  over'  his 
neglected  botany,  and  genera  arid  species  familiar  no  more. 
Near  Malaga,  we  met  large  companies  of  Valencians,  in 
white  frocks  and  hempen  stockings,  looking  for  employment 
in  the  harvest.  They  had  their  reaping  hooks  in  hand,  and 
went  on,  singing  and  laughing,  as  men  always  do  at  harvest- 
home.  These  migrations  of  the  peasantry,  in  search  of  labor, 
are  characteristic  of  the  agricultural  system  in  some  parts  of 
the  Peninsula.  In  Andalusia,  for  example,  instead  of  the 
small  farms,  neat  cottages,  and  careful  cultivation,  which  so 
bountiful  a  soil  and  climate  would  seem  both  to  suggest  and 
justify,  the  lands  are  spread  out  in  vast  tracts,  without 
inclosure,  belonging  to  remote  and  rich  proprietors  or  held 
appurtenant,  as  common,  to  the  villages.  Rarely  does  any 
man,  owner  or  laborer,  live  upon  the  soil  he  tills.  Early 
in  the  morning,  they  sally  from  the  hamlets,  with  beasts  and 
implements  of  husbandry,  and  when  the  night  approaches, 
you  see  them  in  long  lines,  returning.  You  may  'travel, 
therefore,  for  whole  leagues,  without  a  glimpse  of  human 
habitation,  and  sometimes  without  a  sign  of  any  thing  that 
looks  like  rural  industry,  unless,  perchance,  a  shepherd  or  a 
goat-herd  convey  you  the  idea.  This,  I  learn,  is  not  the 
case  in  Biscay  or  Navarre,  nor  much  indeed  in  any  portion 
of  the  north.  Those  provinces  have  different  institutions, 
social  and  political.  Their  system  grew  and  strengthened, 
while  the  southern  and  the  central  plains  were  made  the  bat- 
tle-fields of  Christendom.  Hence  their  soil  is  subdivided,  and 
their  peasantry  live  from  it  and  upon  it.  "  Down  to  the 
conquest  of  Toledo,"  says  Jovellanos,  "  there  was  scarcely 
any  trace  of  agriculture,  except  in  the  northern  provinces. 
The  dwellers  on  the  plains  of  Castile  and  Leon,  exposed 
to  constant  forays  from  the  Moors,  and  driven  to  their  castles 
or  their  strong  holds,  found  pasturage  a  means  of  wealth  more 
movable  than  any  other,  and  less  at  hazard  from  the  risks  of 


306  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

war  !"  Down  to  the  conquest  of  Granada,  the  operation 
of  these  causes  did  not  cease,  in  any  portion  of  the  south, 
and  now  the  state  of  things  I  mention,  will  bear  witness, 
how  long 

"  The  evil  that  men  do,  lives  after  them." 

Regarding  the  thing  merely  in  its  bearing  on  production  and 
the  country's  wealth,  it  deserves  most  serious  and  careful 
thought  and  remedy.  All  experience  has  taught,  that  agri* 
culture  can  not  prosper,  where  the  laborer  is  severed,  in 
interest  and  feeling,  from  the  soil.  The  contrast  between 
Andalusia  and  Biscay  settles  that  view  of  the  question. 
But,  looking  at  it,  in  a  higher  point  of  view,  with  reference 
to  its  effect  upon  the  peasant  and  his  character,  the  evil 
seems  still  worthier  the  care  and  cure  of  statesmen.  Such 
a  system  knits  no  tie  between  the  laborer  and  the  land. 
His  home  is  but  a  lodging-house ;  he  sees  it  only  when  he 
goes  to  rest  in  it,  and  leaves  it  when  he  is  refreshed. 
Whether  he  delves  at  one  place  or  another,  is  the  same  to 
him.  The  thoughts  and  feelings  which  belong,  elsewhere, 
to  those  who  cultivate  the  earth,  have  no  foundation  upon 
which  to  build  with  him.  He  is  an  "  operative"  merely, 
not  a  rustic,  in  the  sense  which  the  word  has,  where  men 
grow  up  and  rear  their  children,  with  a  sweet,  and  simple, 
and  deep-rooted  love  for  the  green  spot  associated  with  their 
toil  and  its  reward.  Such  laborers  form  no  rural  population. 
They  wander  where  the  harvest  is  :  they  gather  another 
man's  grain,  and,  like  their  sickles,  are  another  man's  tools. 
As  Sismondi  beautifully  expresses  the  idea,  they  are  "  sans 
avenir  et  sans  passe" — without  pride  in  the  past  or  hope  for 
the  future,  in  their  personal  connection  with  their  country. 
A  soil  on  which  there  is  the  smile  of  nature,  and  than 
which  none  other  is  more  fair  for  men  to  love  and  dwell 
upon,  is  made  a  desert  or  a  grazing-ground.  The  road 
is  dangerous  and  the  field  itself  not  safe  :  for  where  there 
are  both  poverty  and  solitude,  there  is  but  little  force  or 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  307 

terror  in  the  law.  That  men  are  patriots,  as  the  Spaniards 
are,  in  spite  of  this,  gives  no  small  token  of  the  public  virtue. 
What  a  blessing,  if  they  would  but  estimate  the  value  of  the 
pledge  which  agriculture  gives  to  peace  and  permanence  of 
institutions  !  What  a  barrier  to  civil  broil  might  they  not 
build,  by  planting  men's  affections  in  the  soil,  and  throwing 
round  them  the  attractions  of  steady,  home-spent,  well- 
requited  labor !  During  the  reign  of  Charles  III.,  the 
wisest  Spanish  statesmen  thought  and  wrote  profoundly  and 
earnestly  upon  the  subject.  Had  they  been  heard  and  their 
suggestions  followed,  these  reflections  had  been  without  cause. 
Again,  the  subject  is  in  serious  agitation,  and  it  may  be 
hoped  that  there  will  be  some  practical  results.  One  can  not 
but  despond,  however,  on  remembering  the  wasted  wisdom 
of  Jovellaiios  and  Florida-Blanca. 

After  three  days  with  my  kind  friends  at  Malaga,  I  took 
the  diligence,  at  midnight,  for  Granada.  The  road  around 
by  Velez  Malaga  and  Alhama  is  said  to  be  by  far  the  most 
interesting  and  picturesque,  but  my  experience  on  horseback 
had  been  quite  sufficient,  and  I  preferred  the  drive  across  the 
mountains  and  through  Loja.  I  did  not  make  much  of  a 
bargain,  however,  as  it  was  quite  dusk  the  next  day,  when 
we  reached  our  destination,  after  the  hottest  and  most  dusty 
journey  that  ever  tried  a  man's  endurance.  Granada  was 
very  full  of  people,  for  the  feast  of  Corpus  Christi  was  at 
hand,  which  is  there  celebrated  with  unusual  magnificence. 
It  is  like  an  annual  fair  to  the  shopkeepers,  who  prepare 
their  choicest  commodities,  in  great  abundance,  for  the  occa- 
sion. Having  nothing  to  sell,  I  found  the  crowd  rather  an 
inconvenience  than  otherwise.  A  fellow-countryman,  whom 
I  had  met  in  the  diligence,  joined  his  sorrows  with  mine, 
and  we  traversed  the  streets  from  lodging-house  to  lodging- 
house,  until  near  ten  o'clock.  Finally,  we  succeeded  in 
stumbling  on  the  Pasteleria  Suiza,  the  Swiss  pastry-cook's 
shop,  in  the  Calle  del  Milagro,  where,  after  forming  our 
plans  for  the  morrow,  we  committed  our  bones  to  the  most 


308  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

geological  mattresses  that  ever  cheated  a  wayfarer  of  his 
rest. 

Next  morning,  I  awoke  with  a  raging  fever,  and  in  great 
pain — no  very  pleasant  introduction,  it  will  be  admitted,  to 
the  glories  of  the  Moors.  My  own  small  stock  of  medical 
skill  having  been  exhausted  on  the  first  day,  without  any 
perceptible  effect  but  an  increase  of  my  sufferings  and  symp- 
toms, I  determined,  on  the  second,  to  take  advice.  A  con- 
verted or  perverted  Jew,  who  called  himself  Manuel  Ben- 
saquin,  had  taken  possession  of  us,  on  the  night  of  our  arrival, 
to  act  as  guide  to  the  wonders,  and  in  the  absence  of  a  bet- 
ter, I  had  employed  him  to  attend  by  my  bedside.  Isaac 
was  a  shrewd,  well-informed  fellow,  whose  chief  fault  was 
his  attention  to  the  main  chance.  When  I  suggested  the 
necessity  of  a  physician,  he  informed  me  that  he  had  a  son, 
a  student  in  the  medical  college  of  Granada,  whom  he  would 
be  happy  I  should  see.  Having  still  strength  enough  left 
for  self-defense,  in  case  of  need,  I  consented,  and  shortly 
afterward  a  young  gentleman  made  his  appearance,  in 
calanes  and  cloak.  He  took  off  the  one,  and  freed  his  right 
shoulder  from  the  other,  disclosing  his  shirt-sleeves  as  he  en- 
tered. Then,  walking  toward  me  with  a  somber  look  and 
melancholy  salutation,  he  took  my  pulse  and  straightway  fell 
into  deep  thought.  After  a  moment's  meditation,  he  turned 
to  his  father,  and  observed,  with  great  solemnity,  "  Es  mi 
opinion  que  se  sangre  el  Senor  /" — (It  is  my  opinion  that 
the  gentleman  must  be  bled.)  I  retook  possession  of  my  arm 
immediately,  and  answered,  "  Es  mi  opinion  que  no." — (It's 
my  opinion  that  he  shan't  be.)  Whereupon  he  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  gathered  up  his  cloak,  made  his  obeisance,  and 
departed  as  he  came.  I  found  out  afterward  that  he  was 
apprentice  to  a  barber,  and  did  blood-letting  at  a  hospital, 
wherefore  he  felt  bound,  no  doubt,  to  make  prescription  of 
the  only  thing  that  he  could  do  for  me. 

Things  getting  worse,  I  had  recourse  to  one  of  the  pro- 
fessors in  the  University— a  gentleman  of  kind  and  courteous 


GLIMPSES   OF    SPAIN.  309 

manners,  who  had  gone  through  his  studies  in  Paris.  He 
thought  my  case  a  critical  one,  as  he  told  me  afterward,  but 
seemed  to  think  it  was  to  be  cured  by  cream  of  tartar.  The 
English,  he  said,  were  too  fond  of  powerful  medicines,  and 
in  that  climate  men  could  die  fast  enough  without  calomel. 
All  this  was  very  true,  no  doubt,  but  I  went  on  getting  worse, 
whereupon  he  pronounced  that  there  was  but  one  remedy — 
he  must  order  a  tisana  laxante!  He  wrote  a  prescription, 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  was  signing  a  death-warrant,  and 
sent  forth  Manuel  for  the  critical  compound.  Shortly  it 
appeared,  in  the  shape  of  a  tumbler-full  of  black  and  awful- 
looking  liquid — enough  to  shake  the  courage  of  the  bravest, 
in  a  strange  land  and  among  strange  doctors.  If  I  had  been 
Socrates,  I  should  have  vowed  all  imaginable  poultry  to 
Esculapius,  before  I  drained  it.  As  it  was,  I  only  shuddered 
at  discovering  that  the  ultima  ratio  medicorum  at  Granada, 
was  a  horrible  decoction  of  bad  senna !  When  it  came  to  car- 
minatives, I  found  that  there  was  nothing  in  the  shops  more 
vigorous  than  flor  de  malvas,  or  flower  of  mallows,  which 
the  professor  insisted  on  my  taking,  in  an  infusion  about  as 
vigorous  as  the  tea  of  a  nervous  spinster.  It  must  have  been 
of  great  service  to  me,  I  suppose  ;  at  all  events,  it  was  a 
classical  article,  for  when  the  brave  Moor  Muza,  so  famous 
in  romance,  was  driven  from  Granada,  he  wrote  a  letter  by 
the  margin  of  the  Xenil,  and  used  flor  de  malvas,  with  water, 
for  his  ink  : — 

"  Hizo,  de  una  cana  verde, 
Con  el  alfange,  una  pluma, 
Y  con  agua  y  flor  de  malva 
Tinla  para  hacer  la  swma." 

I  mention  these  things,  in  order  that  the  reader  may  make 
up  his  own  mind,  as  to  whether  he  will  be  sick  at  Granada, 
if  he  can  help  it. 

As  soon  as  I  had  taken  the  tisana,  the  doctor  seemed  to 
think  he  had  made  a  rather  hazardous  experiment.  I  must 
take  some  soup,  he  said — something  sustancioso  !  I  must 


310  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

have  some  ham  boiled  in  it — a  piece  of  the  jamon  dulce, 
the  sweet  ham  from  the  Alpuj  arras,  which  was  muy  rico, 
very  rich,  and  very  healthful.  If  I  could  eat  a  little  chicken, 
it  would  help  me,  also ;  for  I  must  remember  I  was  not  in 
England,  and  if  I  starved  myself  in  that  warm  climate,  of 
course  he  could  not  answer  for  the  consequences.  All  this 
being  repugnant  to  my  notions  of  fevers,  and  some  little  in 
conflict  with  my  personal  experience,  I  took  the  liberty  of 
translating  jamon  into  "gammon,"  and  got  well  on  my  own 
responsibility.  It  was  not,  however,  until  after  nine  sad  days, 
that,  with  the  aid  of  Manuel's  cane  and  arm,  I  was  able  to 
creep  round  the  neighboring  square  of  Vivarrambla,  so  famous 
in  the  ballads  and  old  story. 

The  reader  will  imagine  that  it  was  not  perfect  bliss  to 
find  myself  a  prisoner  and  ill,  under  the  very  shadow  of  the 
monuments  that  I  had  come  so  far  to  see.  I  must  admit, 
in  truth,  that  near  as  I  then  was  to  the  Alharnbra,  it  would 
have  pleased  me  better,  for  the  time,  had  I  been  nearer 
home.  Nor  was  there  any  thing  in  the  appliances  about 
me,  to  reconcile  me  to  my  fate.  My  chamber  was  upon  the 
second  floor,  and  must  have  been  the  tympanum  on  which 
struck  all  the  concentrated  millions  of  Granadian  noises. 
Across  the  street,  which  was  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  wide, 
there  dwelt  a  famous  songstress,  a  new  accession  to  the  opera, 
who  beat  on  her  piano  in  the  most  heart-rending  manner, 
and  cried  aloud  and  spared  not,  all  day  long.  A  few  paces 
back,  the  street  led  into  the  Puerto,  Real,  a  public  square 
or  Plaza,  where  all  the  water-carriers,  and  venders  of  wood, 
charcoal,  fruit,  and  vegetables,  held  rendezvous  and  tried 
their  voices.  Under  my  open  windows,  all  the  dogs  and 
cats  and  children  of  the  town  kept  revel ;  for  the  pastelero 
was  a  man  of  note,  and  blessed  was  the  odor  of  his  kitchen  I 
Within  the  house,  I  was  but  little  better  off!  The  hotel- 
entrance  was  kept  fastened  at  all  times,  as  is  the  way  in 
Spain.  Every  five  minutes,  from  the  early  dawn  till  after 
midnight,  there  was  ringing  at  the  bell.  The  little  house-dog 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  311 

instantly  responded  from  his  chamber,  close  by  mine,  and 
Dona  Rita,  the  Maritornes  of  the  pastry-shop  (a  little,  rugged 
woman,  with  a  black  mustache),  would  mount  the  platform 
in  the  second  story,  pull  fiercely  at  the  latch-string,  and  cry 
Quien  ?  (Who  ?)  in  accents  like  the  filing  of  a  saw.  The 
door-bell  was  the  only  one  in  the  establishment,  and  there- 
fore, day  and  night,  there  was  a  sound  of  many  voices, 
from  the  garret  to  the  kitchen.  I  knew  what  orders 
guest  and  landlord  gave;  who  wanted  breakfast,  and  who 
wanted  boots ;  and  finally,  I  grew  to  know  the  voices  that 
belonged  to  different  chambers,  though  I  had  never  seen  their 
owners. 

My  apartment,  of  itself,  was  not  the  beau-ideal  of  a  bed- 
room. The  floor  was  of  brick  tiles,  which  Rita  watered 
every  day,  at  noon.  It  was  "  muy  fresco  y  saludable"  she 
observed  (very  fresh  and  heathful),  though  rather  puddly,  to 
my  notion.  I  ventured  a  remonstrance  to  her,  once,  insin- 
uating that  my  cot  appeared  too  short.  "  No  puede  ser" 
she  said,  "  that  can  not  be.  A  Russian  gentleman  (he  was 
a  count)  slept  in  it  once,  and  he  was  taller  than  my  worship, 
she  well  knew,  because  they  had  to  put  him  something  at  the 
head  of  the  bed  to  make  it  longer !  He  was  a  personaje  too  ; 
and  burned  a  couple  of  wax  candles  every  night ;  a  wealthy 
gentleman  ;  easy  to  please,  besides  !"  Of  course,  I  ordered 
wax  candles  the  next  day,  and  got  on  better  afterward, 
although  I  durst  not  ask  whether  the  Russian  personaje 
praised  my  mattress.  In  Spain,  the  mattresses  are  usually 
of  wool,  and  very  cool  and  pleasant  when  they  are  well 
cared  for.  It  seemed  to  me,  however,  from  the  structure 
and  the  properties  of  those  the  pastelero  had,  that  in  Granada, 
they  must  drive  the  sheep  in,  horns,  and  bones,  and  all. 
This  is  a  supposition  merely,  be  it  understood,  not  to  be 
quoted  from  this  place,  hereafter,  in  any  history  or  school- 
book,  as  a  specimen  of  "  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
inhabitants."  It  behoves  a  man  to  be  particular,  about 
such  matters,  for  since  Prescott  has  been  amiable  enough  to 


312  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

refer  to  Swinburne,  even  upon  a  matter  of  architectural 
measurement,  there  is  no  knowing  to  what  extent  the 
simplest  traveler's  flies  may  be  embalmed  in  the  most 
precious  historical  amber. 

These  glimpses  of  my  personal  and  private  story,  some 
may  think  more  fitting  for  my  journal  than  a  book.  Yet, 
after  all,  the  world  consists  of  people  rather  than  of  palaces 
and  gardens,  and  were  I  merely  to  tell  of  the  Alhambra 
and  the  Sierra  Nevada,  I  had  better  copy  from  some  pre- 
cious Arab  chronicle.  Nor  should  I  do  half  justice  to  the 
kind,  good-natured  people,  were  I  to  persuade  the  reader, 
that  there  was  nothing  round  about  me  but  personal  dis- 
comfort. A  letter,  which,  elsewhere,  would  have  procured 
me  a  dinner  or  a  card,  brought  me  frequent  visitors  and 
kind  companionship.  Acquaintances,  who,  in  most  other 
countries,  would  have  settled  their  account  with  bows,  came 
often,  with  good  words  and  services.  The  physician,  whose 
jamon  I  slighted,  was,  in  his  bearing  and  attention,  all  I 
could  have  asked  from  an  old  friend.  He  gave  me  comforts 
from  his  house,  and  went  out  of  his  way  to  serve  me.  Even 
the  domestics  in  the  tavern,  and  Rita,  when  propitiated  by 
a  bright  red  handkerchief,  were  as  patient  and  well-meaning 
as  a  sick  man's  fretfulness  could  ask. 

The  doctor  found  himself  in  quite  a  troublesome  predica- 
ment one  day,  because  of  his  civility  to  me.  He  was  the 
only  person  in  Granada  who  subscribed  to  the  Paris  "  Presse," 
and  he  used  to  bring  the  numbers  to  me  after  every  mail. 
When  I  was  able  to  stroll  out,  I  went,  one  morning,  to  the 
Alameda,  by  the  Xenil,  and,  as  the  news  from  home,  just 
at  that  time,  was  full  of  interest,  I  read  the  "Presse"  while 
I  was  resting.  Some  one  came  to  talk  with  me,  and  when 
I  left  the  spot,  I  casually  left  the  papers  too.  A  gipsy 
found  them,  and  offered  them  for  sale,  by  accident,  to  one 
of  the  doctor's  friends,  informing  him  that  he  had  found 
them  on  the  margin  of  the  river.  The  gentleman  became 
the  purchaser,  and  took  them  to  the  doctor's,  where  he  found 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  313 

the  family  quite  anxious  ;  the  master  of  the  house  being 
absent,  though  the  dinner-hour  had  passed.  Of  course  the 
gipsy's  story  filled  the  circle  with  alarm,  and  till  the  doctor, 
whose  engagements  had  kept  him  at  the  University  all  day, 
made  his  appearance  in  the  evening,  his  wife  and  friends 
were  terribly  afraid  that  he  was  sleeping  at  the  bottom  of 
the  Xenil. 

O 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

The  Xenil  and  the  Darro — The  Alameda — The  Alhambra  Gardens — 
The  Cuarto  Real — Monastic  Taste — Gonsalvo  de  Cordova  and  the 
Cartuja — Precious  Marbles — Mariana  de  Pineda — San  Jeronimo 
and  the  Tomb  of  the  Great  Captain. 

A  LIVELY  Malaguena,  who  preferred  the  present  to  the 
past  (as  lively  ladies  generally  do),  predicted  to  me  that  the 
walks  and  gardens  of  Granada  would  delight  me  more  than 
all  the  relics  of  the  Moors.  The  prophecy,  I  found,  was  not, 
by  any  means,  as  wild  as  I  had  thought  it.  The  Xenil  and 
the  Darro,  those  rivers  of  romance,  unite  their  waters  where 
the  hill,  on  which  the  city  stands,  slopes  off  into  the  plain. 
The  Darro,  bursting  from  the  mountain-side,  cleaves  the 
very  heart  of  the  city  ;  sometimes  passing  through  an  open 
channel,  sometimes  hidden  by  long  vaults  or  tunnels.  It  was 
a  trifling  stream  when  I  was  there,  though  at  some  seasons, 
I  was  told,  it  swells  and  maddens  fearfully.  Down  toward 
its  mouth,  it  passes  through  a  handsome  avenue  called  the 
Carrera,  on  which  you  see  some  of  the  finest  modern  build- 
ings. Meeting  the  Xenil  at  right  angles,  it  then  passes  off 
to  cheer  and  fertilize  the  Vega.  Following  upward  the  more 
copious  Xenil,  you  find  yourself  upon  the  Alameda,  one  of  the 
most  exquisite  promenades  in  Europe.  It  is  wide  and  ample 
for  pedestrians  and  carriages,  and  passes  through  the  richest 
vegetation,  kept  ever  verdant  by  the  ceaseless  flow  of  almost 
icy  waters.  Trees,  tall  and  luxuriant,  bend  across  the  paths, 
so  that  the  sun  scarce  more  than  enters  :  flowers,  in  bound- 
less profusion  and  variety,  fill  every  space  between  the  walks, 
and  dally  all  along  the  banks.  Bridges,  at  convenient  in- 
tervals, stretch  across  the  river,  which,  half-hidden  by  the 
foliage,  accompanies  the  music  of  the  nightingales  with  dron- 
ing murmur.  Every  body  rides,  or  drives,  or  walks,  of  after- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  315 

noons,  and  the  Salon,  the  center  of  the  Alameda,  is  the  cy- 
nosure of  elegance  and  fashion.  The  fountains  then  begin  to 
sparkle  with  all  their  jewelry  of  spray,  and  far  and  near, 
among  the  trees,  long  lines  of  carriages  go  winding,  and 
gallant  horsemen  spur  in  bright  costume.  The  benches,  in 
among  the  flowers  and  laurels,  are  filled  with  graceful  women 
scorning  bonnets,  and  with  men  whose  taste  still  clings  to 
ancient  habits,  despite  the  ravages  of  French-taught  tailors. 
The  sunset,  which  is  rosy  far  above  you  on  the  brow  of 
Mulahacen,  seems  to  stir  the  breezes  that  have  slept  all  day 
among  the  snows,  and  there  comes  down  a  dewy  freshness 
upon  all  things,  waking  your  recollection  of  the  Moorish 
fancy  which  hung  the  groves  of  Paradise  in  the  mid-sky 
above  Granada. 

Nor  has  the  Xenil  a  monopoly  of  shade  and  fragrance. 
Toil  up  the  narrow  street  of  the  Gomeles,  till  you  reach  the 
Gate  of  the  Pomegranates,  where  begins  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  Alhambra.  The  steep  ascent  will  give  you,  it  may  be, 
some  notion  of  an  Andalusian  sun.  Enter  the  enchanted 
precincts,  and  so  massive  are  the  deep-green  arches  over  you, 
that  scarcely  have  the  fountains  light  enough  to  dance  in. 
Streams,  melted  from  the  mountain-snows,  leap  down  the 
hills  m  narrow  channels,  all  the  earth  around  them  rendering 
tribute,  gratefully,  in  perfume  and  in  verdure.  Summer  may 
be  raging  in  city  and  in  plain,  but  here  the  Spring  has  been 
made  captive,  and  the  singing-birds  are  at  their  best  to  glad- 
den his  captivity.  Here,  no  crowds*  come  for  fashion  or  dis- 
play. Love-couples  roam,  at  twilight,  in  the  alleys,  or  listen 
to  the  music,  in  green,  sheltered  bowers.  The  poor  and 
proud,  wrapped  in  their  dark-brown  cloaks,  stroll  solitary  in 
the  furthest  walks.  Meditative  idlers  come  and  go,  with 
lazy  step,  and  save  the  playful  children  chasing  one  another 
round  the  fountains,  all  you  see  are  in  a  mood  of  sympathy 
with  the  sweet  sadness  of  the  spot.  Perchance,  through 
some  dim  opening  in  the  trees,  you  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
Alhambra  towers,  when,  at  the  nightfall,  their  old  dusky 


318  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

hue  is  blended  with  the  shadows  in  the  air  !  So  beautiful, 
so  quaint,  so  strange  all  is,  that  you  would  scarcely  wonder, 
were  a  cavalcade  of  Moors  to  sally  from  beneath  some  lofty 
archway,  or  a  vailed  face  unmask  its  beauties,  at  some  win- 
dow looking  toward  the  evening  star. 

There  is  another  charming  spot,  not  always  visited  by 
travelers,  called  the  Cuarto  Real  or  royal  chamber,  which 
is  said  to  have  been  a  pavilion  of  the  Moorish  kings.  Legends 
say  there  is  a  passage  underground,  from  it  to  the  Alhambra, 
but  how  or  why  it  was,  or  where  it  is,  the  story  does  not 
tell  us.  At  the  foot  of  the  great  hill  on  which  the  Alham- 
bra stands,  we  left  the  Alameda  of  the  Xenil,  and  climbed 
some  ill-paved,  tortuous  streets,  until  we  found  ourselves  be- 
fore the  entrance  to  a  huerta — a  medley  of  orchard,  garden, 
pleasure-ground,  and  vineyard — which  formerly  belonged  to 
the  holy  brothers  of  St.  Dominic.  Within  this  huerta,  and 
again  inclosed,  we  found  the  object  of  our  search.  While 
Manuel  was  looking  for  the  keeper,  I  stopped  to  rest  at  a 
cottage  in  the  grounds.  The  good  man  and  his  wife  and 
bouncing  daughter  were  sitting  at  the  door,  literally  under 
the  shadow  of  their  own  vine  and  fig-tree.  An  arbor, 
covered  with  the  luxuriant  foliage  of  the  vine,  sheltered  the 
whole  front  of  the  house,  and  the  old  woman,  bringing  a 
chair  out,  placed  it  in  the  coolest  spot  for  me.  The  daughter 
was  engaged  in  the  rather  curious  process  of  shelling  the 
habas  for  their  dinner.  She  broke  them  open,  like  the  pea- 
pods  in  our  kitchens,  and  then  bit  off  a  hard,  black  part — 
the  germ,  I  suppose — which  was  at  the  extremity  of  every 
bean.  The  old  man  was  extremely  curious  to  know  of  my 
country,  and  marveled  greatly  when  I  told  him  that  the 
summer  was  as  hot  as  in  Granada,  and  the  winter  even 
colder  than  theirs.  He  said  Ave  Maria!  and  looked  over 
at  his  wife  incredulously,  as  I  mentioned  every  wonder.  I 
saw  he  had  great  doubts  of  me,  though  too  polite  to  say  so. 
"  Far  countries  make  long  lies,"  their  proverb  says,  and  they 
believe  their  proverbs. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  317 

When  Manuel  returned,  he  led  me  through  the  avenues 
of  arbored  vines,  flanked  on  all  sides  by  irrigated  beds  of 
fruit  and  vegetables,  to  the  door  of  the  inner  huerta.  We 
entered,  and  found  a  succession  of  beautiful  and  well-shaded 
walks,  one  of  which  terminated  in  a  superb  arbor,  some 
sixty  feet  in  length  and  full  thirty  feet  high,  over  which 
the  thick  foliage  of  the  walls  and  the  closely  interwoven 
over-arching  boughs  made  a  complete  and  exquisite  canopy. 
At  one  end  was  a  fountain  :  there  were  seats  along  the 
sides,  and  at  the  other  end  was  the  precious  pavilion  I  had 
gone  to  see.  The  doors  of  cedar  have  been  painted  blue, 
until  the  quaint  rich  figures  on  them  can  be  scarcely  seen, 
and  the  fine  arabesques  upon  the  walls  and  arches  have  had 
the  delicate  outlines  of  their  tracery  in  a  great  degree  white- 
washed away.  The  Cu&rto  Real  is  a  single  large  apart- 
ment, with  a  vaulted  roof  of  carved  and  inlaid  wood  and  an 
alcove  to  the  right  and  left.  In  front,  there  is  a  pleasant 
little  recess,  a  mirador  or  observatory,  from  which  there  is 
a  charming  and  extensive  view  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  and 
the  Vega.  Some  of  the  porcelain  tiles,  beneath  the  entering 
arch,  are  white,  with  figures  delicately  gilded,  and  the  pat- 
terns of  the  rest  are  of  the  most  intricate  and  beautiful 
mosaic.  Who  can  wonder  that  both  Moor  and  monk,  driven 
from  such  retreats,  should  cherish  the  belief  and  feed  the 
hope  of  one  day  coming  back  to  them  ?  In  bowers  such  as 
this,  impenetrable  by  the  sun  ;  a  fairy  chamber,  through 
whose  arches  the  sweet  winds  must  always  play  ;  a  view 
before  them,  gladdening  to  the  heart  and  eye  ;  they  must 
have  felt — both  Moslem  and  Dominican — that  there  was 
something  even  in  the  nothingness  of  earth ! 

It  has  been  remarked,  and  with  a  great  deal  of  truth, 
that  the  sites  selected  by  the  monastic  orders,  all  the  world 
over,  are  generally  monuments  of  the  finest  taste  for  natural 
sublimity  and  beauty.  What  a  noble  view  it  is,  from  the 
terrace  of  the  once  magnificent  Cartuja  of  Granada  !  Pass- 
ing through  the  famous  "  Puerta  de  Elvira"  you  reach  it, 


318  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

after  a  long  and  sunny  walk.  It  was  a  superb  edifice, 
judging  from  the  relics,  but  upon  the  suppression  of  the 
monastic  institutions  it  fell  into  private  hands,  and  a  great 
portion  of  the  building  has  since  been  taken  down  for  the 
value  of  the  materials.  The  extensive  cloisters  are  now 
filthy  and  desolate,  inhabited  only  by  the  household  of  a  poor 
priest,  who  has  charge  of  the  gorgeous  chapel.  The  ceme- 
tery, where  the  brethren  have  been  sleeping  for  three  centuries, 
was,  when  I  saw  it,  a  rank,  waving  grain  field.  All  in 
front,  upon  the  sloping  hill-sides,  stretching  down  into  the 
Vega,  lie  the  broad  and  fertile  lands  which  once  were  the 
Carthusian  domain ;  a  tract  which  can.  not  be  surpassed 
for  beauty  of  location,  excellence  of  culture,  or  bountiful 
returns.  The  view  is  bounded  by  the  white-topped  mount- 
ains, which  have  looked,  so  changelessly,  on  all  the  human 
changes  at  their  feet. 

About  three  centuries  ago,  Gonsalvo  de  Cordova,  the 
Great  Captain,  was  desirous  to  found  a  monastery  for  his 
burial-place,  and  made  arrangements  for  the  purpose  with 
the  order  of  St.  Bruno.  He  chose  a  site,  upon  a  hill  not 
far  from  that  on  which  the  present  buildings  stand.  His 
object  was  to  render  thanks  for  his  delivery,  upon  that  spot, 
from  a  great  peril,  in  a  conflict  with  the  Moors.  The  work 
was  going  on,  when,  one  bright  morning,  the  poor  brethren 
were  found  all  murdered.  Their  successors  were  unwilling 
to  run  like  risk  from  the  Moriscos,  who  were  charged  with 
having  done  the  deed.  Gonsalvo  would  not  compromise  ; 
he  ceased  to  be  the  patron  ;  and  the  monks  selected  the 
fine,  present  site  themselves.  At  least  so  says  the  "  Viajero 
en  Granada." 

The  church  of  the  Cartuja  is  of  plain  exterior,  made  of 
brown  stone.  Over  the  portal  is  a  creditable  statue  of  St. 
Bruno,  in  white  marble.  The  first  apartment  that  you  enter 
is  the  choir,  where  the  lay  brethren  used  to  sit.  The  doors 
which  open  thence  upon  the  body  of  the  church,  are  of  ivory, 
tortoise-shell  an.d  mother-of-pearl,  inlaid  with  silver  and 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  319 

with  plates  of  glass  above.  In  the  main  chapel,  there  is 
little  to  admire.  Behind  the  altar,  doors  like  those  just 
mentioned  admit  you  into  a  sanctum  sanctorum,  which  con- 
tains a  beautiful  custodia  (or  temple)  of  the  richest  marbles, 
filled  with  exquisite  mosaics.  Nearly  the  whole  walls  of 
this  sanctuary  are  encrusted  with  similar  marbles,  all  from 
the  mountains  of  Granada,  and  the  floors  are  of  black  and 
white  marble  inlaid.  You  think  that  certainly  the  show  is 
quite  as  gorgeous  as  it  can  be,  but  they  take  you,  next,  into 
the  sacristy,  where  you  find  all  you  can  conceive  of  splendor, 
in  jasper,  agate,  and  stones  whose  names  I  did  not  know. 
The  brown  jasper  has  a  richness  and  variety  of  penciling  I 
never  saw  on  marble,  and  taking  all  together,  there  are  few 
things  of  the  same  size  and  sort,  in  Italy,  more  splendid  or 
remarkable.  On  each  side  of  the  precious  doors,  and  all 
around  the  sacristy,  divided  by  the  choicest  slabs  and  columns, 
are  the  armoires  of  cedar,  in  which  the  vestments  once  were 
kept.  Their  whole  exterior  is  of  the  costliest  buhl.  A  single 
press,  out  of  the  twelve  or  twenty  that  you  see,  would  make 
a  virtuoso's  happiness  and  fortune.  Nothing  can  give  you  a 
better  idea,  than  a  glance  at  this  sacristy,  of  the  prodigal 
wealth  of  the  extinguished  order.  When  the  edict  for  its 
dissolution  came,  the  numbers  of  the  brethren  were  very 
few,  I  learned,  and  they  were,  mostly,  old  men.  Perhaps 
by  this  time,  they  have  gone  to  answer,  where  charities,  well 
done  and  faithfully,  will  bar  the  statutes  of  mortmain. 

From  the  Cartuja,  we  passed  through,  on  our  return,  the 
pretty  walks  and  gardens  of  the  Triunfo,  where  there  is  a 
votive  column  to  the  blessed  Virgin.  Hard  by,  was  formerly 
the  place  of  public  executions,  now  consecrated  by  the  fate 
and  memory  of  Mariana  de  Pineda,  a  lady  of  intelligence 
and  beauty,  who  expiated,  on  the  spot,  in  1831,  the  crime 
of  having  embroidered  "  Libertad"  on  a  tri-colored  banner  ! 
Though  tempted  by  promises  of  life  and  pardon,  she  per- 
sisted in  refusing  to  betray  her  friends,  and  added,  by  her 
death,  one  darker  shade  to  the  unmitigated  infamy  of  Ferdi- 


320  GLIMPSES   OF    SPAIN. 

nand  VII.  When,  in  due  course,  the  despot  went  to  his 
reward,  it  was  determined  that  no  other  blood  should  dese- 
crate the  scene  of  the  fair  martyr's  suffering.  A  marble 
column  was  erected  on  the  spot,  and  her  name  and  story 
will  live  forever  as  a  household  word  and  legend,  while  the 
same  people  and  their  children  shall  dwell  on  the  same 
hills. 

My  guide  next  led  me  to  the  former  Convent  of  San 
Jeronimo,  within  the  church  of  which  is  the  tomb  of  Gon- 
salvo  of  Cordova.  There  was  a  regiment  of  cavalry  quar- 
tered in  the  cloisters,  or  close  by,  and  their  bugles  sounded 
as  we  stood  before  the  portal.  It  was  a  fitting  introduction 
to  the  resting-place  of  the  great  warrior.  After  we  had 
knocked  for  some  time  at  the  door,  it  was  opened  to  us  by  a 
poor  and  melancholy  looking  old  ecclesiastic,  who  was  wrap- 
ped in  a  brown  cloak.  It  was  the  Padre  Sevilla,  I  was  told, 
once  a  great  preacher  of  the  Capuchins,  now  dwindled  into 
the  humble  guardian  of  a  deserted  chapel.  Walking  up 
the  solitary  nave,  we  saw  an  altar,  on  the  right  and  left, 
and  over  each  were  blazoned  the  arms  of  the  great  captain. 
The  shields  which  bore  them  were  supported  by  effigies  of 
men-at-arms,  whose  helmets  were  so  like  the  basins  at  the 
barbers'  doors,  that  they  might  well  have  matched  Mam- 
brino's.  On  the  left  of  the  high  altar,  was  a  kneeling  figure 
of  Gonsalvo  :  his  duchess  knelt  upon  the  right.  High  on 
the  wall,  there  was  a  painting  of  the  Pope,  blessing  the 
great  captain's  sword — "  uti  defensori  ecclesice,"  as  the 
inscription  said.  Gonsalvo  was  depicted,  kneeling,  in  full 
armor  except  as  to  his  head.  A  page,  behind,  stood  ready 
with  his  casque,  which  was  adorned  with  nodding  plumes. 
While  I  was  looking  at  this  proud  memorial  of  the  great 
man's  honors,  my  guide  turned  up  the  matting,  and  showed 
me,  level  with  the  pavement,  a  plain  slab,  which  seemed 
the  entrance  to  a  vault.  It  bore  the  beautiful  and  sim- 
ple epitaph,  which  Mr.  Prescott  gives,  with  a  slight  er- 
ror— 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  321 

"GONZALI     FERNANDEZ 

DE     CORDOVA, 
QUI,    PROPRIA    VIHTUTE, 

M  A  G  N  I    DUCIS    NO  MEN 
PROPRIUM      SIBI      FECIT, 

OSS  A, 

PERPETU^E      TANDEM 

LUC  I    RESTITUENDA, 

HTJIC,     INTEREA,     LOCULO,* 

CREDITA     SUNT. 
GLORIA     MINIME      C  O  N  S  E  P  U  L  T  A." 

The  tasteful  reader  will  tax  his  memory  in  vain  for  a 
more  classic  model.  When  I  had  copied  it,  down  went  the 
mat  again,  and  the  hero  was  once  more  beneath  men's  feet 
unnoticed.  Perhaps  I  should  say,  with  more  correctness, 
that  there  the  hero  would  have  been,  had  not  his  ashes  been 
removed  by  stealth,  some  years  ago  !  Historians  dilate  upon 
the  splendor  of  his  obsequies  ;  the  banners,  and  triumphal 
trophies  which  were  hung  above  the  lofty  mausoleum,  sculp- 
tured in  his  honor  by  Berruguete  and  Becerra.  They  are 
all  gone  now.  The  marble  has  scarce  outlived  the  silken 
pennon.  The  French  have  visited  the  spot,  and,  of  course, 
avenged  themselves  for  the  inscription  on  the  outside  of  the 
church,  which  calls  Gonsalvo,  "  Galloruin  et  Turcorum  ter- 
ror." It  was  the  more  unpalatable,  for  that  it  was  true. 
The  Granadians,  besides,  have  been  there  themselves,  so  that, 
between  friends  and  enemies,  the  Great  Captain  and  his  bones 
have  shared  the  fate,  in  death,  which  Ferdinand's  ingratitude 
foreshadowed  in  the  flesh. 

*  Not  tumulo. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  Cathedral  of  Granada — The  Royal  Chapel — Pulgar  and  the  Ave 
Maria — The  Royal  Tombs — Ferdinand  and  Isabella — Antique  Bas- 
reliefs — The  Sacristy — Ferdinand's  Crown  and  Scepter — Surrender 
of  Granada — Irving  and  Prescott — The  Historical  Bas-relief — Visit 
to  the  Hermitage  of  San  Sebastian — The  Procession  of  Corpus 
Christi.  The  Lawsuit  for  Precedence — Spanish  Soldiery — Society 
and  Cultivation  in  Granada. 

SOME  people,  and  especially  the  town's-folk,  believe  that 
the  Cathedral  of  Granada  is  among  the  finest  in  the  world. 
Its  ground  dimensions  are  nearly  identical  with  those  of  the 
Seville  metropolitan,  which  it  greatly  exceeds  in  loftiness  of 
dome.  The  outside  is  unfinished-  and  discordant ;  but,  from 
its  magnitude  and  elevation,  the  interior  has  occasional  effects 
not  easily  to  be  surpassed.  The  style  is  hybridous,  and  of  a 
sort  which,  critics  say,  is  altogether  peculiar  to  Spain,  being, 
as  Capt.  Widdrington  defines  it,  "an  attempt  to  apply  the 
Grecian  design  and  details,  to  edifices  constructed  in  the 
Gothic  form  and  proportions."  It  is  a  "  transition  style," 
in  fact  and  chronologically,  but  though  it  certainly  admits 
extraordinary  displays  of  architectural  ingenuity  and  boldness, 
it  always  struck  me,  as  wanting  both  the  Greek  simplicity, 
and  the  deep,  solemn,  reverential  Gothic  awe.  The  Cathe- 
dral of  Granada  is  reputed  the  most  majestic  specimen  of  its 
capabilities,  but  I  confess  that  my  memories  of  Seville  inter- 
fered sadly  with  my  ability  to  give  them  any  high  apprecia- 
tion. The  whitewashed  walls  and  columns,  lofty  as  they 
were,  seemed  naked  and  paltry  by  comparison,  and  though 
there  were  some  pictures  and  statues  held  to  be  of  note,  I 
did  not  find  it  in  me  to  study  or  admire  them  as,  perhaps, 
they  deserved. 

The  Royal  Chapel  is  Gothic  and  magnificent :  a  separate 


GLIMPSES  OF  STAIN.  323 

church  in  style,  as  it  is,  really,  in  fact  and  jurisdiction.  You 
may  enter  it  from  the  body  of  the  Cathedral,  or  go  round  on 
the  outside,  by  a  dirty  street,  which  leads  you  by  the  palace 
where  Gil  Bias  was  fool  enough  to  question  the  archbishop's 
homilies.  Between  the  Royal  Chapel  and  the  Sagrario 
(the  parish-church),  there  is  a  damp,  dark  passage,  which 
is  called  the  Chapel  of  Pulgar.  Here  stood  the  mosque 
door,  to  which  the  champion,  Hernan  Perez  del  Pulgar, 
affixed  the  Ave  Maria  with  his  dagger,  during  the  hottest 
of  the  siege  of  Granada.  Martinez  de  la  Rosa  has  established 
the  authenticity  of  the  achievement,  and  the  reader  of  the 
Spanish  ballads  is  familiar  with  the  story  of  Garcilaso  de  la 
Vega,  who  earned  his  title  in  single  combat,  on  the  Vega, 
with  a  Moor  who  trailed  the  Ave  Maria  at  his  horse's  tail. 
In  memory  of  Pulgar' s  boldness,  the  spot  where  he  displayed 
it  was  granted  to  him  for  an  altar  and  a  burial-place,  and 
here  he  and  his  children  sleep,  outside  the  splendid  portal 
which  opens  to  the  prouder  mausoleum  of  his  king  and 
queen. 

Charles  V.  spoke  truly,  when  he  said  the  Royal  Chapel 
was  too  small  to  match  the  dignity  of  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella. It  is  an  inspiring  building,  nevertheless,  and  their 
greatness  and  renown  fill  it  with  majesty.  An  iron  screen, 
magnificently  wrought,  divides  the  body  of  the  chapel  from 
the  royal  tombs.  In  front  of  the  high  altar,  are  two  splen- 
did monuments  of  alabaster.  Upon  one,  lie  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella — on  the  other,  their  unhappy  daughter,  Juana  the 
Foolish,  with  her  handsome  husband,  Philip  of  Burgundy. 
The  hands  of  Ferdinand  are  crossed  upon  his  bosom,  touch- 
ing the  hilt  of  his  sword,  the  point  of  which  rests  between 
his  feet.  He  is  in  armor,  but  his  lirnbs  are  partly  covered 
by  the  embroidered  mantle,  which  leaves  his  chest  exposed. 
His  face  and  head  are  fine  :  the  brow  full  and  intellectual. 
He  wears  about  his  neck  some  splendid  insignia  of  knight- 
hood. The  sculptor  has  done  full  justice  to  the  statue  of 
Isabella.  Her  face  is  full  of  thought,  benignity,  and  beauty — 


324  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

placid  as  with  the  expression  of  a  happy  death.  She  wears 
the  cross  of  Santiago  on  her  bosom,  and  her  folded  hands 
rest  on  the  rich  mantle,  whose  drapery  envelops  her  figure. 
At  the  feet  of  each  there  is  a  couchant  lion,  and  on  the  end 
of  the  monument,  below,  there  is  a  mutilated  medallion, 
representing  a  Christian  cavalier  charging  down  the  Moors. 
The  epitaph  has  been  often  quoted  and  criticised  for  its  in- 
tolerance, by  those  who  persist  in  forgetting  that  the  six- 
teenth century  was  not  the  nineteenth. 

Philip  and  Juana  lie  with  faces  most  conjugally  averted 
from  each  other ;  she  with  a  scepter,  he  with  a  sword  that 
rests  upon  his  shoulder.  Both  of  the  tombs  are  superbly 
sculptured,  in  the  finest  spirit  of  the  Italian  chisel,  and  cov- 
ered with  reliefs  and  statuettes.  That  of  Philip  and  Juana 
is  the  loftier,  and  makes  more  show  of  majesty.  While  I 
was  looking  at  them,  the  sacristan  removed  a  carpet  in  front 
of  the  altar,  and  disclosed  an  iron  grate.  This  he  opened, 
and  we  descended  to  a  vault,  well  lighted,  painted,  and  paved 
with  tiles.  In  the  center,  on  a  platform,  in  huge  leaden 
coffins  hooped  with  iron,  lay  the  relics  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  each  coffin  with  its  cipher.  On  a  raised  ledge  to 
the  right,  were  the  coffins  of  Juana  and  one  of  her  children 
who  died  young.  On  the  left  lay  Philip,  by  himself.  "Ex- 
pende  !  quot  libras  /" 

Returning  to  the  upper  air,  I  looked  at  the  effigies  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  armed  and  kneeling — he  on  the  left, 
she  on  the  right  of  the  high  altar.  Over  each  of  them,  a 
small  and  dim  old  pennon  is  fastened  to  the  wall.  Behind 
the  figure  of  the  king,  is  a  bas-relief  of  the  surrender  of 
Granada,  which  I  shall  have  occasion  to  advert  to  presently. 
Close  by  the  queen  there  is  another,  which  represents  the 
baptism  of  the  Moors  who  were  converted.  It  is  a  grim 
piece  of  hydropathy,  to  be  sure,  for  the  sculptor  seems  to  have 
considered  it  a  joke,  if  one  may  judge  from  the  wry  faces 
which  the  catechumens  are  making,  and  their  efforts  to  escape 
the  healing  waters,  which  the  friars  are  pouring  on  them, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  325 

or  sprinkling  by  wholesale,  here  and  there,  with  their  as- 
perges. 

In  the  sacristy  they  showed  me  the  sword  of  Ferdinand. 
The  blade  had  been  broken  and  ground  down :  how  sad  and 
true  an  emblem  of  his  empire's  progress  !  His  crown  and 
scepter,  of  heavy  silver-gilt,  were  of  coarse  workmanship. 
The  sacristan  invested  me  with  both,  and  told  me  they  be- 
came me.  A  peseta  will  buy  flattery  for  republicans  as  well 
as  kings !  There  were  shown  me,  too,  an  old  picture  of  the 
Adoration  of  the  Shepherds,  which  belonged  to  the  sovereigns, 
and  a  large,  superbly  illuminated  missal,  written  and  painted, 
as  the  inscription  says,  by  Francisco  Flores,  in  1496.  This 
is  called  by  Ford,  the  "  Queen's  own  missal."  The  legend 
on  the  blank  leaf  tells  us  merely  that  it  belonged  to  and  was 
used  in  the  oratory  of  the  sovereigns,  who  gave  it,  with  other 
precious  things,  to  this  their  chapel — ("Del  uso  y  propiedad 
del  oratorio  de  los  Sres.  Reyes  Catolicos,  que  con  otras 
alajas  de  el  mismo  lo  donaron  a  esta  su  reed  capilla.")  On 
the  wall  of  the  sacristy  hung  also  a  picture  of  but  small 
artistic  merit,  which  attracts  much  interest  from  its  subject : 
the  parting  of  Ferdinand  and  Boabdil.  The  Christian  king 
is  embracing  his  Moorish  brother  with  great  enthusiasm,  such 
as  a  man  might  naturally  feel  for  a  troublesome  foe,  who  was 
out  of  his  way  at  last  and  had  left  a  splendid  city  behind 
him  as  a  keepsake. 

The  story  of  the  surrender  of  Granada  is  told  by  different 
historians  with  singular  discrepancy  in  its  details.  This  may 
be  seen,  even  in  the  narratives  of  Mr.  Irving  and  Mr.  Pres- 
cott,  which  bear  marks  of  conflict  in  the  statements  of  the 
native  writers,  from  whose  chronicles  they  have  been  taken. 
The  general  outline  of  the  story  is,  however,  that  on  the 
morning  when  Boabdil  was  to  leave  his  city,  the  sovereigns 
dispatched  a  portion  of  their  troops  to  take  possession  of  the 
Alhambra,  while  they  themselves  remained  below,  upon  the 
plain.  Boabdil,  leaving  his  vizier  to  make  surrender  of  the 
fortress-palace,  is  said  to  have  gone  down  the  Hill  of  Martyrs, 


326  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

upon  the  outside  of  the  city,  and  to  have  met  the  sove- 
reigns, at  the  mosque,  upon  the  margin  of  the  Xenil,  which 
is  now  called  the  Hermitage  of  St.  Sebastian.  He  at- 
tempted to  dismount,  in  sign  of  homage,  but  the  sovereigns 
courteously  preventing  him,  he  delivered  up  the  keys  of 
the  Alhambra  (or  the  city),  with  a  melancholy  word  or 
two,  and  then  proceeded  on  his  gloomy  way  toward  the 
Alpuj  arras. 

Familiar  with  this  usual  version  of  the  story,  I  was  quite 
surprised  to  see  it  told  so  differently,  by  the  old  colored  bas- 
relief  beside  the  altar  of  the  Royal  Chapel.  This  curious 
piece  of  carving  is  attributed  to  Felipe  Vigarny,  a  celebrated 
sculptor  of  Burgos,  and  must  have  been  executed  in  the  first 
quarter  of  the  sixteenth  century.  It  has,  therefore,  all  the 
probabilities  of  authenticity  upon  its  side,  especially  when  we 
consider  its  conspicuous  position  in  the  mausoleum  of  the  con- 
querors themselves,  and  the  likelihood  of  its  attracting  con- 
temporary criticism  and  reproach,  had  the  sculptor  ventured 
to  vary  from  the  facts  so  familiar  to  many  who  were  then 
alive.  The  queen,  upon  a  snow-white  genet,  is  riding 
between  Ferdinand  and  the  great  Cardinal  Mendoza.  The 
cardinal  is  seated  on  a  comfortable,  stately,  churchman's 
mule,  and  wears  his  hat  and  gloves,  while  the  sovereigns 
ride  with  their  hands  uncovered.  Behind,  there  is  a  fierce 
following  of  knights  and  men-at-arms.  Instead  of  waiting 
on  the  plain,  they  are  ascending  the  Hill  of  the  Alhambra, 
and  have  already  reached  the  Gate  of  Justice,  which  is  now 
the  main  entrance  of  the  fortress,  and  has  hardly  changed  a 
whit  in  the  three  centuries.  The  towers  of  the  Alhambra 
fill  the  background ;  the  Torre  de  la  Vela,  or  great  watch- 
tower,  being  conspicuous,  with  its  lofty  bell,  as  at  the  present 
day.  There  is  a  train  in  Moorish  dress,  that  sallies  from 
the  Gate  of  Justice.  Those  behind,  marching  in  ranks  of 
two,  are  said  to  be  the  Christian  captives,  whom  Ferdinand 
restored  to  home  and  faith.  In  front,  a  groom  is  holding  the 
white  charger  of  Boabdil,  who  has  left  his  saddle  and  is 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  327 

offering  the  keys  which  Cardinal  Mendoza  stretches  out  his 
hand  to  take. 

Curious  to  investigate  the  matter  somewhat  further,  1 
went  upon  a  search  after  the  Hermitage  of  St.  Sebastian, 
where,  Mr.  Irving  says,  in  his  Alhambra  Sketch-Book,  "a 
tablet  on  the  wall  relates,  that  on  this  spot  Boabdil  surren- 
dered the  keys  of  Granada  to  the*  Castilian  sovereigns." 
Following  the  Carrera  of  the  Darro,  till  it  reached  the 
Xenil,  I  crossed  the  latter  river,  and  turning  to  the  right, 
went  down  a  shady  walk  upon  its  banks,  known  as  the 
Alameda  de  los  tristes — the  Alameda  of  the  sad.  After 
some  ten  minutes  walking,  we  arrived  at  the  Hermita, 
which  is  just  upon  the  margin  of  the  stream,  and  probably 
a  mile  from  the  Alhambra  gate.  It  is  a  single  square 
chamber,  whitewashed,  with  a  spherical  dome,  and  some 
simple  moldings  whose  mathematical  combinations  indicate 
the  Moorish  artist.  The  ornaments  and  images  were  very 
humble,  and  a  solitary  lamp  was  burning  before  the  altar 
of  the  patron  saint.  A  poor  woman,  who  lodged  in  a  portion 
of  the  building,  came  dripping  from  her  washing-tub  to  let 
us  in,  and  pointed  us,  as  we  left,  to  where  we  might  drop  a 
few  ciwrtos,  for  the  benefit  of  dead  and  living.  What  a 
comment !  Who  would  make  holy  wars,  and  conquer  Pay- 
nimrie,  after  that  ?  There  it  was  that  the  sovereigns  had 
knelt,  in  the  proud  flush  of  victory ;  there  the  washerwoman 
held  their  places !  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova  under  a  mat :  Her- 
nando  del  Pulgar  in  a  dark,  noisome  corner  :  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella  descended  to  the  suds!  "  Mizraim  cures  wounds, 
and  Pharaoh  is  sold  for  balsams!" 

The  tablet  of  which  Mr.  Irving  speaks,  is  a  marble  slab, 
upon  the  outside  of  the  mosque,  but,  strange  to  say,  instead 
of  telling  us  that  "  on  this  spot"  Boabdil  yielded  up  his  keys, 
it  follows,  to  the  letter,  the  story  which  is  told  by  the  carv- 
ings in  the  chapel.  I  quote  it  at  full  length,  as  it  is  old 
and  curious,  and  give  the  original  in  the  appendix. 

"Muley   Boaudeli,   the   last  Moorish  king  of  Granada, 


328  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

having  given  up  the  keys  of  this  said  city,  on  Friday,  the 
second  day  of  January,  1492,  at  three  in  the  afternoon,  at 
the  gate  of  the  Alhambra,  to  our  Catholic  monarchs  Don 
Fernando  V.  of  Aragon,  and  Dona  Isabel  of  Castile,  after 
777  years  that  this  city  had  suffered  the  Mahometan  yoke, 
from  the  loss  of  Spain,  which  happened  on  Sunday,  llth 
of  November,  714;  the  said  Catholic  king  sallied  out  to 
take  leave  of  the  afore-mentioned  Boaudeli,  as-  far  as  this 
spot,  formerly  a  mosque  of  the  Moors  and  then  erected  into 
a  Hermitage  of  St.  Sebastian,  where  the  glorious  conqueror 
and  his  army  gave  thanks  to  God  our  Lord ;  the  choir 
of  the  royal  chapel  sounding  the  te  Deum,  and  the  standard 
of  the  Faith,  fluttering,  the  while,  upon  the  Torre  de  la 
Vela :  in  memory  whereof,  at  the  aforesaid  hour,  the  plegaria 
(or  bell  for  prayer)  is  sounded  from  the  Cathedral,  and 
plenary  indulgence  is  obtained  by  saying  three  Pater  nosters, 
and  three  Ave  Marias."^ 

If  this  tablet  and  the  bas-relief  have  told  the  story  right, 
the  gateway  of  the  Torre  de  los  siete  Suelos,  which  Mr. 
Irving  deems  the  one  through  which  the  vanquished  monarch 
passed,  must  lose  its  fame  again,  and  Mateo's  legend  be 
henceforward  held  more  full  of  pleasantness  than  history. 

In  Lockhart's  version  of  the  "  Flight  from  Granada,"'  he 
speaks,  the  reader  will  remember,  of  the  hour, 

" — when  the  sun  was  going  down," 
as  that  at  which 

"  One  king  goes  in,  in  triumph — one,  weeping,  goes  away." 

The  original  ballad  is  not  in  any  of  the  Romanceros  to  which 
I  have  access,  but  unless  the  translator  has  taken  a  liberty  for 
the  sake  of  the  verse,  the  poet  seems  to  contradict  the  chroni- 
clers, on  whose  authority  we  are  told,  in  the  "  Conquest  of 
Granada,"  that  the  surrender  happened  in  the  early  morning. 
But  enough   of  chronicle   and    ballad   for  the    present. 
When  I  reached  Granada,  the^feast  of  Corpus  Christ!  was 
*  Appendix  IV. 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  329 

at  hand,  as  I  have  said.  As  we  passed  through  the  Square 
of  Vivarrambla,  on  the  night  of  our  arrival,  we  saw  the 
scaffolding  erected,  which  was  to  bear  the  splendid  decora- 
tions for  the  ceremonial  in  the  open  air.  It  happened, 
however,  that  on  the  very  day  when  we  were  plodding  our 
dusty  way  from  Malaga,  the  Granadinos  had  been  follow- 
ing the  example  of  their  Seville  brethren,  and  had  taken  to 
themselves  a  trifling  bread-revolution,  for  amusement.  The 
demonstration  being  formidable,  the  authorities  deemed  it 
most  prudent  to  dispense  with  the  usual  processions  through 
the  streets,  and  thus  the  good  people  from  a  distance,  who 
had  come  to  celebrate  the  feast,  were  forced  to  be  devout  at 
church  or  not  at  all.  After  a  few  days,  the  apprehension 
of  further  disturbances  having  ceased,  it  was  announced, 
that  on  the  last  day  of  the  octave  of  Corpus,  there  would 
be  some  show  of  a  procession ;  not,  of  course,  as  grand  as 
usual,  but  something  to  make  the  season  pass  after  the  ac- 
customed fashion. 

When  I  went  out,  between  five  and  six  of  the  appointed 
afternoon,  the  Plaza  de  Vivarrambla  (then  the  Plaza  de  la 
Constitution!)  and  the  old  narrow  Moorish  street,  the  Zaca- 
tin,  which  leads  to  it,  had  all  their  balconies  hung  with  silks 
and  damasks,  muslins  and  calicoes,  according  to  the  means 
of  the  proprietors.  The  procession  was  to  pass  that  way, 
and  all  the  world  had  put  its  best  foot  foremost.  The 
Granadian  fair  were  filling  the  balconies,  and  the  Plaza 
was  already  crowded.  I  went  to  the  Cathedral  then,  and 
found  the  doors  all  fastened  open ;  great  numbers  of  the 
people  hurrying  to  and  fro.  The  day  was  bright  and  fine, 
and  the  effect  of  the  light  through  the  stained  windows  of 
the  apsis  was  exceedingly  magnificent.  The  whole  build- 
ing, indeed,  had  a  grander  effect  upon  the  occasion  than  I 
witnessed  before  or  afterward.  The  aisles  were  thickly 
strewn  with  fragrant  herbs.  Innumerable  lights  were  burn- 
ing round  the  Host,  and  the  organ  and  the  choir  were  in  full 
sound.  Here  and  there,  the  standards  and  insignia,  which 


330  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

were  to  be  used  in  the  procession,  were  resting  against  the 
walls  and  columns,  and  hosts  of  ecclesiastics  in  their  vest- 
ments and  choir-boys  in  their  surplices,  were  making  their 
arrangements.  The  church  was  converted  into  a  promenade. 
Men  and  women  were  not  permitted  to  walk  and  talk  within 
the  walls  together  (as  an  occasional  placard  informed  us)— . 
a  strange  prohibition  certainly,  but 

"  The  sun,  no  doubt,  is  the  prevailing  reason!" 

Nevertheless,  groups,  of  the  same  sex,  were  gathered  or  were 
walking  here  and  there,  chattering  and  laughing  precisely  as 
upon  the  Alameda.  Now  and  then,  little  colonies  of  ladies, 
seated  on  the  floor  after  the  fashion  and  in  the  posture  of  the 
East,  occupied  the  front  of  some  chapel  or  other,  and  let  the 
men  pass  in  review  :  receiving,  with  no  protection  but  their 
fans,  the  gaze  which,  in  those  latitudes,  is  a  good,  sound,  in- 
vestigating stare.  My  friends  and  I  went  round  and  round, 
till  we  had  seen,  or  rather  looked  for  all  the  beauty.  I  can 
not  say  of  the  sweet  Granadinas,  what  their  sisters  of  Seville 
and  Cadiz  deserve  so  well.  The  city,  on  the  whole,  is  stronger 
in  romance  than  loveliness. 

Having  paid  our  tribute,  thus,  to  holy  church — according 
to  the  custom  of  the  place  at  least — we  used  our  eyes  along 
the  balconies,  as  seemed  to  be  expected.  Then,  finding 
chairs  at  a  shop-entrance,  on  the  Zacatin,  we  waited  till 
the  functionaries  came  along.  First,  marched  a  squadron 
of  well-appointed  cavalry  :  then  came  a  train  of  boys  and 
men,  bearing  wax  candles,  lighted,  and  after  them  the 
religious  associations  of  the  different  parishes,  with  badges, 
insignia,  and  banners.  The  clergy  from  the  Cathedral  fol- 
lowed, preceded  by  a  band,  not  very  large  or  musical.  In 
the  center  of  their  body  was  the  Host,  beneath  a  silver 
temple,  not,  however,  the  great  custodia  of  the  Cathedral. 
It  stood  upon  a  platform  richly  hung  with  velvets  and 
borne  upon  the  shoulders  of  men,  who  were  concealed  by  the 
drapery.  Next  came  the  captain-general  in  rich  uniform, 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  331 

glittering  with  crosses,  sashes,  and  ribbons,  and  accompanied 
by  the  Alcalde  and  Jefe  politico.  Then  followed  a  fine 
military  band,  heading  a  detachment  of  infantry,  and  another 
admirable  body  of  light  cavalry,  superbly  mounted,  finished 
the  procession.  The  clergy  chanted  as  they  marched,  and 
the  crowd  uncovered  and  knelt,  as  the  Host  passed  them  : 
yet  I  am  bound  to  say,  that  the  whole  demeanor  of  the 
procession  and  the  crowd  was  the  least  reverent  thing  I  saw 
in  Spain.  The  vestments  and  paraphernalia  were  not  very 
brilliant,  for,  as  I  have  said,  the  ceremonial  was  only  an 
apology  for  something  better.  Yet  there  was  one  feature 
which  was  both  appropriate  and  beautiful.  Banners,  crosses, 
all,  were  wreathed  and  garlanded  with  fresh  bright  flowers, 
and  the  platform  of  the  Host  was  strewed  with  them,  in 
exceeding  richness  and  abundance. 

Devotional  as  this  procession  was  meant  to  be,  it  seems 
that,  in  the  olden  times,  it  had  on  one  occasion  a  very  strange 
consequence,  in  the  shape  of  an  angry  and  protracted  law- 
suit. Manuel  showed  me  an  old  parchment-covered  volume, 
of  large  dimensions,  containing  the  history  of  the  pleyto, 
which  lasted  for  many  years,  and  went  the  rounds  of  all 
the  courts,  involving  the  important  question  of  precedence 
between  the  archbishop  and  the  civil  corporation  of  Granada. 
The  prelate  claimed  the  immemorial  right  of  having  a  large 
chair  carried  in  the  procession,  and  of  seating  himself,  at 
every  halt,  while  the  illustrious  ayuntamienlo  were  stand- 
ing. There  was  the  further  collateral  point,  as  to  whether 
the  archbishop,  if  he  sate  at  all,  could  legally  and  constitu- 
tionally sit  with  his  back  to  the  authorities  !  Upon  these 
grave  matters  there  was  long,  learned,  and  awful  contro- 
versy, in  which  the  Pope  was  appealed  to,  as  the  record 
shows,  without  any  satisfactory  result.  The  matter,  if  I 
remember  aright,  was  finally  compromised,  by  allowing  the 
chair  to  be  carried  outside  the  procession,  and  by  the  arch- 
bishop's consenting  to  sit  at  a  decorous  angle — not  as  a  matter 
of  right,  but  of  politeness  ! 


332  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

Speaking  of  the  appearance  of  the  military,  I  may  here 
observe,  that  the  commentaries  made  by  former  travelers  upon 
the  equipments  and  appointments  of  the  Spanish  soldiery, 
were  not  by  any  means  accordant  with  the  state  of  things  I 
found.  The  best  troops  I  had  seen  elsewhere,  had  no  advant- 
age of  appearance  over  some  of  those  in  Spain.  This  had 
been  the  case,  I  learned,  for  some  two  or  three  years  back, 
and  the  impulse  to  the  improvement  of  the  army  was  given, 
I  was  told,  by  General  Narvaez.  Their  pay  was  regular — 
their  uniforms  were  neat  and  well  provided  ;  their  arms 
according  to  the  last  improvements,  and  their  cavalry  cap- 
itally mounted  and  equipped.  In  fine,  the  army  was,  as 
they  say,  sobre  un  pie  muy  brillante — (upon  a  very  brilliant 
footing) — so  that  even  the  Alhambra,  once  garrisoned  by 
gaunt  and  shabby  invalids,  was  guarded  then,  by  fresh,  well 
got-up  troops.  The  militares  were  in  great  demand,  I 
heard,  in  the  politer  circles  of  the  city,  but  from  what  I 
learned  on  all  hands,  the  tone  of  society,  intellectual  and 
moral,  was  much  below  a  creditable  standard.  Of  intellect- 
ual pursuit,  indeed,  there  was  comparatively  little,  the  Ala- 
meda,  the  opera,  and  the  cafe,  being  the  chief  resorts  of  the 
Senoria,  or  gentlemanship  of  Granada.  Industry  scarcely 
existed  to  any  valuable  extent.  The  Vega,  whose  astonish- 
ing, prolific  vegetation — wheat,  barley,  hemp,  flax,  and  all 
sorts  of  grain  and  pulse — struck  me  with  wonder,  as  I  rode 
across  it,  seemed  to  give  no  impulse  to  its  idle  mistress,  and,  as 
I  was  informed,  pride,  poverty,  and  all  the  shifts  to  which  they 
lead,  made  up  the  back-ground  of  domestic  privacy  through- 
out the  thriftless  town.  My  information  on  the  subject  was, 
I  think,  authentic  and  intelligent,  yet  as  it  was  but  hearsay 
(though  from  natives),  it  is  fair  to  add,  that  the  Viajero  en 
Granada  tells  quite  a  different  story.  It  takes  great  credit 
to  the  city  for  its  cultivated  and  refined  society,  and  enumer- 
ates, besides,  a  number  of  literary  and  scientific  institutions, 
which  it  especially  commends. 

In  front  of  my  hotel,  there  dwelt  a  learned  Theban,  who 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  333 

taught  the  rudiments  of  grammar,  or  primeras  letras,  as  he 
phrased  it.  His  sign  announced  him  in  a  manner  which,  I 
fear,  spoke  ill  for  the  discrimination  of  his  enlightened  and 
literary  fellow-citizens.  He  was,  it  said,  the  inventor  of  a 
silabario,  which  shortened  the  teaching  of  reading,  and  besides 
being  analytical  and  exact,  had  the  recommendation  of  hav- 
ing been  tried  by  its  author  ! — ("  Analitico  esacto  y  esperi- 
mentado  por  su  autor  /")  I  hope  he  meant  that  he  had 
tried  it  upon  other  people,  not  upon  himself. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Mr.  Irving  and  the  Alhambra — Mateo  Ximenez — The  Gate  and  Square 
of  Vivarrambla — Casa  del  Carbon — The  Alhambra — The  Towers 
of  Justice  and  la  Vela — Exterior  and  Interior  of  the  Moorish 
Palace — Lodgings  within  the  Alhambra  Jurisdiction — The  Gener- 
alife — Boabdil  and  his  Portrait — Boabdil's  Queen  and  the  Abencer- 
rage — View  from  the  Silla  del  Moro— Ole  Bull — Moorish  Antiqui- 
ties— their  Condition  and  the  Reasons — Parallel  cases  in  England 
and  Scotland — Shilling  Exhibitions — John  Knox  and  the  Altar-piece 
of  Queen  Mary. 

SINCE  Irving  wrote  of  the  Alhambra,  nothing  has  been 
left  to  tell.  The  traveler  who  wandered  through  the  silent 
halls  before,  missing  the  beauty,  wealth,  and  kingly  follow- 
ing which  once  filled  them  with  Eastern  magnificence  and 
pride,  now  feels  that  they  are  desolate  no  more.  The  genius 
and  sweet  fancy  of  our  countryman  have  peopled  court  and 
chamber  once  again,  and  every  garden,  hall,  and  tower,  has 
its  legend  or  its  pleasant  memory.  It  is,  as  if  some  Arab 
artist,  of  great  Yusuf 's  time,  had  visited  the  glimpses  of  the 
moon,  and  touched  the  faded  tracery  with  all  the  magic  of 
his  olden  pencil.  Renowned  Mateo,  too,  is  there,  to  greet 
you  with  his  treasures  of  garrulous  romance  :  and  you  may 
listen,  or  may  read  his  master's  pages,  till  the  visions  of  the 
twilight  grow  so  thick  around  you,  that  you  sigh,  almost  as 
deeply  as  the  Moor,  to  leave  them. 

I  had  not  the  good  luck  to  take  Mateo  for  my  guide, 
though  such,  of  course,  had  been  my  wish.  Bensaquin  had 
forestalled  him,  as  I  have  related,  and  my  sickness  had  con- 
firmed the  chance.  Mateo  called  to  see  me,  notwithstand- 
ing, while  I  was  lying  ill,  and  told  me,  that  as  he  had  heard 
I  was  a  caballero  Americano,  and  quite  sick,  he  had  come 
to  place*himself  at  my  disposal.  Ford  says,  that  he  is  "a 


GLIMPSES  'OF  SPAIN.  335 

chattering  blockhead,"  but  from  what  I  saw,  I  should  take 
him  for  a  kind  and  simple  creature,  full  of  good-will,  good 
memory,  and  faith  in  his  own  legends.  He  probably  is  not 
familiar  with  the  Phoenician  derivations,  to  which  Mr.  Ford 
reduces  all  things  Andalusian,  and  yet  I  think  it  more  than 
likely  that  his  stories  are  in  better  harmony  with  the  sweet 
spirit  of  the  place,  than  if  they  had  been  taken  from  the  class- 
ics. Mr.  Ford,  seems,  by-the-by,  to  have  been  quite  in  an  ill 
humor  with  Mr.  Irving'  s  hero  and  heroines.  The  Tia  An* 
tonia,  so  well  known  to  all  readers  of  the  "  New  Sketch- 
Book,"  was  a  "  cross  and  crabbed"  wench,  he  says,  who 
went  by  another  name  :  and  in  order  to  prove  it,  he  shows 
that  the  person  he  speaks  of  was  expelled  from  the  Alham- 
bra,  in  1827,  two  years  before  Mr.  Irving  went  there.  The 
charming  little  Dolores,  he  adds,  was  "  ill-favored  and  mer- 
cenary," but,  as  the  person  whom  he  took  her  for,  was  a 
contemporary  of  his  imaginary  Tia,  there  is  every  reason  to 
suppose  that  he  knew  as  much  of  the  one  as  of  the  other. 
What  manner  of  man  must  he  be,  who  would  take  such 
pains  to  disenchant  Dulcinea  del  Toboso,  into  plain  Aldo^a 


As  I  have  said,  the  Pastry-cook's  Hotel  was  but  a  few 
paces  from  the  Gate  of  Vivarrambla.  That  ancient,  storied 
structure,  is  now  built  into  the  dwellings  alongside,  so  that 
you  pass  through  an  humble  archway  immediately  over  the 
street,  with  a  lofty  horse-  shoe  arch  walled  up,  above,  and 
windows,  roof,  and  chimneys,  on  the  top  of  it.  Roberts' 
drawing,  in  the  Landscape  Annual  for  1835,  is  a  fac-simile 
of  its  present  grotesque  appearance.  From  this  point,  up  to 
the  Alhambra,  you  pursue  the  route  Boabdil  followed  when 
they  told  him  that  Albania  had  been  taken. 

"  From  Elvira's  gates  to  those 
Of  Vivarrambla,  on  he  goes, 
*  *  *  * 

Through  the  street  of  Zacatin, 
To  the  Alhambra  spurring  in." 


336  GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN. 

Crossing  the  Place  of  Vivarrambla,  and  following-  the  narrow 
Zacatin,  with  its  shops,  booths,  and  awnings,  you  reach  a 
small  area  called  the  Plaza  Nueva,  with  the  stately  build- 
ings of  the  Chandlleria  on  one  side.  Upon  your  right, 
another  narrow  street  makes  up  the  hill.  It  is  the  calle  de 
los  Gomeles,  of  which  I  have  already  spoken,  and  conducts 
you,  directly,  to  the  Gate  of  the  Pomegranates.  If  you 
choose  to  deviate  a  little  from  your  course,  toward  the  Darro, 
you  may  see  some  trifling  relics  of  the  ancient  bridge,  under 
which  the  companions  of  Hernando  del  Pulgar  concealed 
themselves,  during  a  part  of  the  glorious  adventure  of  the 
Ave  Maria.  Not  far  off,  you  will  find  also  the  Casa  del 
Carbon,  or  coal-house,  as  they  call  it  now,  a  magnificent 
but  ruined  specimen  of  Moorish  art,  supposed  by  some  to 
have  been  the  post-house  of  Boabdil,  but  which  appears  from 
later  investigations,  to  have  been  the  dwelling  of  some  Moor 
of  high  repute,  who,  with  his  friends,  was  sallying  out  and 
met  Pulgar  and  his  companions,  after  they  had  finished  their 
exploit  at  the  mosque. 

On  the  right  of  the  hill,  above  you  as  you  enter  the 
Alhambra  precincts,  are  the  famed  Vermilion  Towers — for- 
midable places,  once,  for  warriors.  When  I  saw  them,  they 
were  only  armed  with  fishing-rods,  which  had  been  fastened 
on  the  battlements  and  flung  their  lines  and  baited  hooks 
into  the  air,  angling  for  martlets  and  swallows  !  Instead 
of  following  the  broad,  central  walk  of  the  Alhambra  gardens, 
you  may  take  a  steeper  and  nearer  way  to  the  left,  which 
leads  you  to  the  fortress.  This  seems  to  have  been  the 
path  by  which  Boabdil  went  away,  according  to  the  bas- 
reliefs.  Passing  a  fountain,  built  by  Charles  V.,  and  covered 
with  "Plus  ultra"  you  turn  another  angle  toward  the  left, 
and,  still  ascending,  find  yourself  before  the  Tower  of  Justice. 
This  beautiful  and  stately  structure,  with  its  mysterious  sym- 
bols of  the  hand  and  key,  of  course  attracts  your  wonder.  When 
Mr.  Irving  entered  it,  first,  the  guard  of  lazy  invalids  lay 
sleeping  on  their  benches.  All  was  wide  awake  when  we 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  337 

went  up,  and  from  the  Caliph's  balcony  above  there  fluttered 
garments  in  the  breeze,  which  told  us,  clearly,  that  the  com- 
andante  had  his  comandante,  and  that  the  Alhambra,  in'  its 
change  of  rulers,  had  got  under  an  unmentionable  government 
at  last.  The  entrance  was  as  tortuous  as  if  it  had  been  con- 
structed on  the  common-law  principles  of  arriving  at  the 
object  which  gives  the  tower  its  name,  and  when  we  were 
through  it,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  long  lane,  with  no  ap- 
parent turn  to  it,  which  looked  very  much  like  Chancery. 
It  ended,  at  last,  upon  our  reaching  what  is  called  the  Wine 
Tower.  On  the  left  were  several  towers,  the  chief  whereof 
— the  Torre  de  la  Vela — bears,  as  I  have  said,  a  lofty  bell, 
with  which,  as  with  the  watch-bell  at  Valencia,  they  regulate 
the  irrigation  of  the  Vega.  The  view  of  the  surrounding 
country  from  the  watch-tower  is  said  to  be  magnificent,  but 
the  captain -general,  fearful  that  some  malcontent  might  sound 
the  tocsin,  had  given  orders  that  no  one  should  be  permitted 
to  ascend  it.  Turning  to  the  right,  around  the  Wine  Tower, 
you  see  before  you  the  splendid  roofless' palace,  built  by 
Charles  V.  Its  stately,  classic  architecture  and  magnificent 
medallions  would  win  you.  elsewhere,  to  admire  and  linger, 
but  there  is  an  humble  postern,  in  a  paltry  wall  behind  it, 
and  you  hasten  thither.  You  ring — they  open — and  you 
stand  within  the  Court  of  Myrtles  ! 

No  doubt,  in  spite  of  reading  otherwise,  most  people  have 
their  notions  of  the  Alhambra,  made  out  of  minarets  and 
marbles,  gold  and  fretwork.  The  exterior,  as  you  draw  near 
it,  makes  away,  most  sadly,  with  such  fancies.  Square 
towers,  of  dusky  red,  with  pointed  roofs  of  heavy,  graceless 
tiles — long  somber  walls,  monotonous  and  dreary — are  the 
dull  realities  that  overlay  your  dreams.  You  have  seen,  per- 
haps, however,  from  some  Genevan  workshop,  a  rustic  look- 
ing box,  which  flying  open  when  a  spring  is  touched,  sends 
forth  a  bird  as  radiant  in  its  plumage  as  the  Phrenix,  its  jew- 
eled throat  swelling  with  richest  melody  !  Not  unlike,  but 
more  cunning  still  is  the  Alhambra.  Enter  and  see  ! 

P 


338  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

The  Court  of  Myrtles,  called,  besides,  the  Court  of  the 
Fishpond,  has  in  its  center  a  deep,  copious  lake,  whose  sides 
are  shaded  with  roses,  cypresses,  and  myrtles.  You  enter  at 
the  upper  end  of  the  inclosure,  and,  beneath  a  gallery,  with 
columns  and  high  arches  that  seem  scarce  heavier  than  the 
air,  you  cross  into  a  sort  of  ante-chamber,  which  opens  on. 
the  Court  of  Lions.  Far  down,  and  filling  up  the  lower 
portion  of  the  Court  of  Myrtles,  there  is  another  gallery, 
behind  whose  slender  pillars  you  may  see  the  lofty  entrance 
to  the  Hall  of  the  Ambassadors,  in  the  grand  tower  of  Co- 
mares — the  splendid  presence-chamber  of  the  Moor.  The 
Court  of  Lions  every  one  has  seen  described  or  painted. 
Its  columns  and  arcades ;  its  arabesques,  and  even  its  Arabic 
verses,  are  as  familiar  to  the  world,  five  thousand  miles 
away,  as  Trajan's  Column,  or  the  Arch  of  Titus.  The 
Hall  of  the  Abencerrages,  with  its  blood-stained  pavement — 
the  Hall  of  Justice,  with  its  quaint  old  pictures — the  Hall 
of  the  Two  Sisters,  with  its  matchless  dome — who  that 
knows  any  thing  of  Spain  needs  to  be  told  of  them  ?  The 
antiquarians  have  speculated  sagely  as  to  the  violation 
of  the  Koran  by  the  Moors,  in  making  graven  images  of 
beasts,  to  bear  the  basin  of  the  magic  fountain.  Alas! 
they  are  called  lions,  but  they  look  like  dogs  in  armor;  and 
if  the  sculptor's  sin  were  only  in  proportion  to  the  like- 
ness he  achieved,  he  rests  in  Paradise,  with  Houris  round 
him! 

From  the  Hall  of  the  Two  Sisters,  they  take  you  to  the 
Bower  of  Lindaraja.  Thence,  a  long  gallery  conducts  you  to 
the  Toilet  of  the  Queen,  where,  from  the  balcony,  you  have 
a  perfect  view  of  the  Albaycin  or  old  city.  Next,  you 
descend  into  the  baths,  passing  the  discreet  statues  of  Lope 
Sanchez,  with  averted  faces  looking  after  hidden  treasures. 
In  the  "  Sola  del  Descanso"  where  the  princes  rested  after 
the  pleasures  of  the  bath,  you  too  may  take  your  slumber  if 
you  list,  for  it  is  fresh  and  fragrant,  and  the  light  which 
struggles  down  through  star-shaped  openings  in  the  roof, 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  339 

invites  you  to  enjoy  the  drowsy  murmurs  of  the  water,  and 
the  marble  purity  through  which  it  flows.  Like  a  good 
Mussulman,  you  seek  the  mosque,  after  your  ablutions, -arid 
next,  by  a  fine  corridor  which  opens  on  the  Court-yard  of  the 
Myrtles,  you  find  your  way  into  the  Hall  of  the  Ambassa- 
dors. You  have  then  made  the  circuit  of  the  Alhambra — 
the  ring,  round  which  more  fairies  revel,  than  any  other  out 
of  Queen  Titania's  realm. 

The  presence-chamber  is  a  spacious,  magnificent  apartment. 
It  is  square,  with  a  high  four-sided  dome  of  the .  richest  and 
most  varied  inlaid  wood- work.  In  the  thickness  of  the  im- 
mense wall  of  the  tower,  they  have  made  three  little  alcoves 
or  chambers,  on  each  side  of  the  hall.  Each  of  these  has 
its  window,  of  a  single  or  double  arch,  with  smaller  arches 
above,  and  the  ceilings  are  of  rich  stucco,  or  wood  highly 
carved  and  inlaid.  The  ^arabesques,  upon  the  walls  of  the 
principal  apartment,  are  of  the  choicest,  and  in  perfect 
preservation,  so  that  the  coup  d'ceil  is  ravishing.  Even  the 
corrector  which  leads  to  it ;  the  archway  of  the  entrance  ; 
the  ceilings  and  stalactite-looking  pendents  which  adorn 
them  ;  the  little  niches  for  the  slippers,  just  outside  ;  the 
colonnade  and  fretwork,  and  marble  pavement ;  all  are  full 
of  that  magnificent  detail,  which  well  befitted  a  luxurious 
monarch's  most  luxurious  chamber.  Yet,  all  its  splendors 
— saving  only  the  gorgeous  landscapes  upon  which  its  win- 
dows open — were  without  the  charm  to  me  of  the  delicious 
Bower  of  Lindaraja.  You  pass  to  this,  from  the  Hall  of  the 
Two  Sisters.  Its  ceiling  is  of  open  wood-work,  and  the 
marble  windows,  with  their  columns  curdled  from  the  snow, 
look  out  on  Lindaraja's  garden.  Its  arabesques,  of  the  most 
choice  and  graceful  patterns,  are  traced  upon  a  ground  of 
blue  and  crimson,  and  the  tiles,  which  shine  beneath  them 
on  the  walls,  are  as  elaborate  and  beautiful  as  painted  ivory. 
The  presence-chamber  illustrates  the  Moor's  magnificence  : 
the  bower  tells  us  the  story  of  his  loves.  It  is  not  strange 
that  we  should  like  the  latter,  best.  Few  men  are  kings  or 


340  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

hope  to  be  :  most  men  have  had  a  Lindaraja,  or  still  hope 
to  have. 

It  does  not  interest  the  reader  to  be  told,  how  often,  at 
morning,  noon,  and  twilight,  a  sick  man  trifled  with  himself 
in  visiting  these  haunted  scenes.      I  can  not  avoid  thinking 
that  if  the  doctor's  black  tisana  had  been  nothing  but  pure, 
sparkling  water  from  the  famous  fountain  of  the  Avellana, 
my  anxious  curiosity  would  have  made  it,  for  the  time,  as 
efficacious,  as  if  the  talisman  of  Saladin  had  been  dropped 
into  it.      Nevertheless,  I  felt,   and  sadly,  too,  the  physical 
debility  which  more  than  once  gave  leaden  feet  to  pleasure, 
even  among  wonders  such  as  were  around  me.      Most  of  all, 
it  annoyed  me  by  defeating  the  pleasant  scheme  I  had,  of 
taking  up  my  residence  in  the  Alhambra.      I  realized  this, 
especially,  one  charming  afternoon,  when  visiting  the  Prussian 
artist  I  had  met  at  Honda.      He  had  come,  of  course,  to  add 
to  his  port-folio,  and  had  fixed  himself  as  near  as  might  be 
to  the  center  of  attraction.      His  dwelling  was  a  beautiful 
old  Moorish  house,  within  the  inclosure  of  the  fortress.     We 
entered  it,  through  a  luxuriant  garden,  almost  overflowing 
with  the  purest  water  from  the  hills.      He  had  six  or  seven 
rooms,  with  chamber  furniture  and  service,  for  which  he 
paid  the  inordinate  amount  of  two  pesetas  (forty  cents)  a  day. 
The  chambers  were  adorned  with  arabesques,  and  the  win- 
dows with  arches  and  columns,  of  the  same  style  and  ap- 
parently the  same  date,  as  those  of  the  Alhambra.     We  saw 
the  sunset  on  the  mountains,  from  the  balcony  of  the  little 
torre  which  was  among  his  treasures,  and  I  could  not  avoid 
feeling,  more  than  ever  in  my  life,  the  beauty  and  the  truth 
of  that  philosophy,  which,  without  running  into  pastorals, 
still  teaches  the  charm,  both  intellectual  and  moral,  of  a  life 
given,  half  at  least,  to  nature.      The  Spaniards  have  de- 
scribed it  often — and  none  better — as  all  will  say,  who  read 
and  understand  the 

"  Que  descansada  vida  /" 
of  Leon. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  341 

The  Generalife  is  worth  a  journey,  almost  as  well  as  the 
Alhambra.  Instead  of  turning  to  the  left,  on  entering  the 
Gate  of  the  Pomegranates,  you  follow  the  central  avenue  of 
the  gardens.  Ascending  the  hill,  you  reach  the  Torre  de  los 
siete  Suelos,  whence  Mr.  Irving  thinks  Boabdil  made  his  exit, 
and  which  the  French  pleasantly  blew  up  when  they  made 
theirs.  You  will  find  a  charming  little  carmen  or  cottage 
of  entertainment  there,  embowered  in  roses,  myrtles,  and 
pomegranates,  where,  at  the  season  of  my  visit,  they  had 
strawberries,  milk,  and  wine,  for  those  who  had  no  fear  of 
doctors.  A  ten  minutes'  walk  carried  us  to  another  car- 
men, by  the  side  of  which  we  turned  abruptly  to  the  left, 
into  a  stony,  rugged  defile.  Upon  our  right,  as  we  went 
down  it,  was  a  hill,  covered  with  trees  of  deep,  rich 
foliage,  and  on  the  other  side  we  had  the  walls  and  towers 
of  the  Alhambra.  We  passed  the  Torre  de  las  Infantas, 
where  the  three  beautiful  princesses,  Zayda,  Zorayda,  and 
Zorahayda,  were  confined  by  their  stern  father,  as  is  told 
in  Irving's  tale,  and  I  measured,  with  wondering  eyes,  the 
height  of  that  blest  window,  from  which  the  happy  pair  who 
fled  came  down  the  silken  ladder  to  their  Christian  cavaliers. 
Having  gone  to  a  considerable  distance  down  the  glen — now 
crossing  and  then  wandering  along  the  little  stream,  which 
murmured  as  we  stirred  its  pebbles — we  took  a  short  turn 
up  the  hill  upon  our  right,  and  after  climbing  a  bad  path- 
way, with  loose  stones  and  unromantic  dungheaps  all  about 
it,  we  knocked  at  the  rustic  gate  of  the  Generalife.  A 
brown-skinned,  executive-looking  matron — arrived  at  that 
period  of  life  when  ladies  sometimes  acquire  a  fondness  for  a 
narrative  style — opened  the  gate,  and  after  some  parley, 
led  us  through  a  cool,  low  court,  where  a  few  upward  steps 
placed  us  among  the  marvels. 

The  garden  is  not  extraordinary  for  Granada,  though  in 
itself  a  most  delightful  spot.  A  rapid  stream  of  bright  water 
rushes  through  its  midst,  and  green  arbors,  with  a  sweet 
little  high-domed  summer-house  in  their  center,  rise  above 


342  GLIMPSES  OF    SPAIN. 

brilliant  flower-beds,  with  hedges  of  myrtle,  and  scattered 
cypress.  Upon  the  left,  as  you  go  up  the  walk,  there  is  a 
long,  open  gallery,  with  light  columns  and  graceful  arabesques, 
which  gives  you  a  superb  view  of  the  city  and  the  Vega. 
Midway  the  garden,  is  the  little  ancient  mosque,  now  made 
a  chapel ;  but  the  attractive  building  is  the  pavilion,  which 
fills  the  upper  extremity  of  the  inclosure.  There  is  a  sort 
of  peristyle  to  this,  the  pillars,  arches,  and  open  arabesques 
of  which  are  in  the  airiest  taste.  Two  or  three  steps  conduct 
you  thence  into  the  chief  apartment,  with  rich  inlaid  ceiling, 
and  walls  elegantly  ornamented.  There  are  alcoves  on  the 
right  and  left  of  this,  which  are  devoted  to  the  portraits.  In 
the  former  are  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  an  apocryphal  Gon- 
salvo  de  Cordova,  and  some  of  the  profanum  vulgus  of  the 
later  kings.  The  other  chamber  holds  the  portraits  of  Boab- 
dil  and  his  father,  together  with  that  of  a  certain  Cidi  Hiaya, 
a  Moorish  prince  baptized  at  Santa  Fe,  to  whom  the  pedi- 
gree of  the  proprietor,  the  Marquis  of  Campotejar,  is  traced 
back,  in  a  huge  tree  of  genealogy  which  hangs  between 
Muley  Hacen  and  the  Rey  Chico. 

Much  has  been  said  of  poor  Boabdil's  portrait,  by  good 
people  who  read  fortunes  after  they  have  been  made  fact, 
and  who  see,  in  the  features  of  the  unhappy  prince,  clear 
signs  of  the  vices  which  the  legends  have  ascribed  to  him, 
and  all  the  weaknesses  to  which  his  downfall  is  attributed. 
The  picture,  whether  it  be  from  life  or  fancy,  is  the  best  of 
the  collection.  It  represents  a  man,  some  forty  years  of  age, 
and  the  face  is  full  of  character  and  interest.  A  profusion 
of  long,  fair  hair  is  falling  on  the  shoulders,  and  the  complexion 
and  beard  are  light,  as  of  one  northern-born.  The  features, 
though  prominent,  are  handsome,  and  the  expression  is  soft, 
affectionate,  and  sad.  The  crown  rests  still  upon  the  placid, 
noble  brow,  and  well  becomes  the  dignity  of  the  whole  sub- 
ject. It  is  such  a  picture  as  you  look  at  over  and  again, 
till  the  melancholy  eyes  seem  to  follow  yours. 

Passing  through  a  door  upon  the  right  of  the  pavilion,  we 


GLIMPSES  OP   SPAIN.  343 

went  into  another  smaller  garden,  whose  waters  nourished  a 
luxuriant  growth  of  roses,  myrtles,  cypresses,  and  oleanders. 
A  huge,  old,  lofty  cypress  in  the  midst,  is  famed  as  the 
traditional  and  guilty  trysting-tree  of  Albin  Hamad  the 
Abencerrage,  and  Boabdil's  queen — two  very  worthy  people, 
villainously  slandered,  there  is  now  no  doubt,  by  poets  and 
romancers.  Perez  de  Hita,  who  knew  all  about  it,  says 
they  told  their  love-tale  in  the  shadow  of  a  rose-tree. 
How  it  has  become  a  cypress,  Mateo  Ximenez  can,  perhaps, 
explain.  A  flight  of  steps  went  upward  from,  this  fated 
spot,  and  then  we  found  ourselves  upon  the  hill-side,  where 
a  steep,  ascending  path  led  to  the  Moor's  Seat — the  Silla  del 
Moro.  When  Boabdil  went  there,  as  the  legends  say,  to 
gaze  on  his  revolted  city,  there  were  buildings  of  some  note 
about  him ;  the  French  have  paid  their  visit  since,  and  there 
is  nothing  left,  of  course,  but  ruin. 

From  the  brow  of  the  hill,  the  spectacle  is  really  mag- 
nificent. The  city  proper  and  the  Albaycin  shelve  out,  far 
down  below  you,  and  you  see,  across  a  green  ravine,  the 
towers  and  tiles  of  the  Alhambra,  giving  small  token  of  the 
fairy  treasures  lying  hid  beneath  them.  In  the  opposite 
direction,  on  the  summit  of  another  hill,*  there  is  a  stately 
edifice,  devoted  to  some  purposes  of  learning  or  religion,  and 
beneath  its  walls,  along  the  steep  descent,  you  discover,  among 
the  fields  of  prickly  pear,  the  entrances  to  caves,  where  dwell 
large  numbers  of  the  gipsies  and  the  poorer  people.  Looking 
toward  the  west,  you  see,  or  in  fair  weather  ought  to  see,  the 
towers  of  Loxa,  thirty  miles  away  among  the  gorges.  I  envy 
the  good  eye-sight  of  the  travelers  who  are  so  lucky,  but  I 
hold  one  very  hard  to  please,  who  is  not  satisfied  with  what 
he  has,  within  the  round  of  undisputed  vision.  Glistening, 
in  the  center  of  the  Vega,  are  the  spires  of  war-built  Santa 
Fe,  surrounded  by  a  very  Canaan  of  fertility  and  verdure. 
Oranges,  lemons,  citrons,  and  fig-trees  cover  the  declivities 
beneath  your  feet,  and  if  you  see  them  at  the  season  of  my 
visit,  you  will  be  dazzled  by  the  scarlet  blossoms  of  the  prod- 


344  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

igal  pomegranate,  when  the  splendor  of  the  noon  is  on  them. 
The  Vega  is  threaded  by  the  silver  Xenil,  and  a  thousand 
streamlets  and  canals.  Scattered  all  about  it  (a  novel  thing 
in  Andalusia)  are  white  farm-houses,  which  give  life  and 
perspective — breaking  into  measure  the  long  lines  of  green 
abundance,  which  the  eye  follows  till  they  fade  among  the 
rugged  hills.  Toward  the  south  and  east,  the  giant  summits 
of  the  Sierra  Nevada  seem  challenging  the  summer  with 
their  snow,  while  on  the  other  side,  the  wild,  isolated  Sierra 
de  Elvira  stands  out,  as  if  the  hills  had  moved  it  forward 
as  their  sentinel  or  vanguard  on  the  plain.  Over  the  little 
village  of  Alhendin,  to  the  south,  rises,  desolate  and  sad,  the 
hill  to  which  Boabdil's  "  windy  suspiration"  gives  its  name — 
the  "  Last  Sigh  of  the  Moor."  Ayxa,  the  monarch's  mother, 
taunted  him,  they  tell  us,  when  he  looked  behind  him  from 
that  spot,  for  weeping,  as  a  woman,  over  what  he  had  not 
guarded  as  a  man  !  Unless  the  story-tellers  have  belied  the 
dowager,  she  was  a  most  unconscionable  shrew,  and,  like  all 
women  in  the  Moslem  faith,  had  certainly  no  soul.  Hard 
was  the  heart  which  did  not  swell  to  bursting,  and  tearless 
were,  indeed,  the  eyes  which  did  not  overflow,  at  leaving 
such  a  realm  forever  !  Heroic  speeches  are  a  very  current 
coin,  in  which  old  women,  even,  can  be  rich.  Charles  V. 
said  nobly,  that  had  he  been  Boabdil,  he  would  rather  have 
been  buried  under  the  Alhambra's  walls,  a  king,  than  have 
been  throneless  in  the  Alpujarras.  And  yet  his  majesty 
spun  out  his  life  within  a  cloister,  trying,  in  vain,  to  make 
old  watches  run  alike  ! 

While  I  was  looking  round  about  me  from  the  hill-top, 
Mateo  mounted  to  the  Silla,  convoying  no  less  famed  a  per- 
sonage than  Ole  Bull !  The  "  Legend  of  the  Rose  of  the 
Alhambra"  came  at  once  into  my  memory,  and  how  the 
magic  strings  of  sweet  Jacinta's  silver  lute  descended,  through 
long  years,  to  Paganini's  fiddle  !  Was  there  no  error  in  the 
story  ?  Had  not  the  renowned  Cremona  come  again,  with 
Paganini's  rival,  to  make  music  by  the  fountain  where  the 


GLIiMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  345 

gentle  Zorahayda's  spirit  dwelt  ?  I  commit  the  question  to 
the  Historical  and  Antiquarian  Society  of  Granada — if  there 
be  one. 

Though  the  Moorish  relics  are  not  in  the  condition  which 
a  lover  of  art  would  wish,  I  found  them,  certainly,  far  less 
defaced  and  ruined  than  I  had  anticipated.  There  has  been 
a  great  deal  of  exaggeration  on  this  subject,  and  considering 
the  many  wars  and  changes  which  have  persecuted  Spain, 
since  Ferdinand  and  Isabella's  time,  I  think  it  wonderful 
that  what  we  see  has  been  so  well  preserved.  I  have  already 
alluded,  in  another  place,  to  the  reproaches  which  are  lavishly 
bestowed  upon  the  Spaniards,  by  some  travelers,  for  their 
neglect  of  things  of  art.  With  reference  to  Moorish  art, 
especially,  the  charge  is  oftenest  made,  and  in  the  "  Hand- 
book," for  example,  the  changes  are  rung  on  it,  through  a 
whole  chapter  on  "the  decay  of  the  Alhambra."  In  that 
place,  Ford,  who  should  know  better,  belabors  the  good  anti- 
quarian Ponz,  for  counseling  his  countrymen  to  rid  them- 
selves "  de  los  resabios  de  los  Moros  :"  as  if  that  learned 
writer  had  said,  or  meant  to  say,  that  they  should  level  all 
things  Moorish.  The  phrase,  as  quoted,  simply  means 
"  blemishes  of  the  Moors,"  and  any  one  who  knows  what 
Moorish  cities  are — with  narrow,  tortuous  streets,  and  low, 
ill-looking  houses — must  feel  the  taste  and  wisdom  of  the 
antiquarian's  anxiety  to  have  such  "  blemishes"  remove^. 

That  many  of  the  Moorish  monuments  should  have  been 
mutilated,  at  the  season  of  the  conquest,  and  neglected  after- 
ward, is  far  from  strange,  when  we  remember  that  the  war 
was  one  of  race  and  of  religion — the  victory  a  triumph  of 
the  Faith,  after  centuries  of  bloody  and  vindictive  strife.  In 
England  and  in  Scotland,  the  triumph  of  one  Christian  creed 
over  another  was  followed  by  devastation  a  thousandfold 
more  barbarous,  though,  in  the  same  proportion,  less  pro- 
voked. "  Churches  and  sepulchers,"  says  Macaulay,  "  fine 
works  of  art  and  curious  remains  of  antiquity,  were  brutally 
defaced.  The  Parliament  resolved  that  all  pictures  in  the 

p* 


346  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

royal  collection  which  contained  representations  of  Jesus,  or 
of  the  Virgin  Mother,  should  be  burned.  Sculpture  fared  as 
ill  as  painting.  Nymphs  and  Graces,  the  work  of  Ionian 
chisels,  were  delivered  over  to  Puritan  stone-masons  to  be 
made  decent."  There  are  ruins  all  through  Britain,  and 
traces  in  the  proudest  temples  there,  to  show  that  there  is 
truth  as  well  as  poetry  in  the  melancholy  picture  which 
"  The  Abbot"  paints,  of  the  desolate  and  desecrated  magnifi- 
cence of  Kennaquhair.  You  may  still  see,  at  Holyrood,  an 
altar-painting  which  Queen  Mary  prized,  and  which,  they 
say,  was  broken  by  John  Knox's  hand.  There  is  not  a 
scrap  of  Koran  in  the  Alhambra,  mutilated  like  it.  When 
I  was  in  York,  an  enterprising  lady  stored  ale  and  stout  in 
the  cloisters  of  St.  Peter's  ancient  Hospita]  :  and  what  was 
left  of  proud  St.  Mary's  Abbey — after  they  had  partly  pulled 
it  down,  to  build  a  county-prison  with  the  stones,  was  in 
keeping  far  more  wretched  than  even  the  Casa  del  Carbon. 
And  more  than  all,  and  to  the  Spaniard's  credit  be  it  said — 
though  he  may  whitewash  his  antiquities,  sometimes,  he  does 
not  ask  as  many  shillings  as  some  others  do,  to  let  you  see 
them.  Mellado  recently  says  in  his  Guide-book,  that  a  good 
description  of  the  Alharnbra  would  be  "  a  safe  speculation." 
"Thus,"  says  Mr.  Ford,  "the  poetry  of  the  Moorish  Alham- 
bra is  coined  into  the  Spanish  prose  of  profitable  pesetas  /" 
For  the  English  "  prose"  of  the  "  Hand-book,"  reader,  you 
pay  one  pound  ten  ! — not  a  farthing  more  than  it  is  worth, 
I  grant  you,  but  quite  enough,  one  would  suppose,  to  coun- 
tenance a  native  "  speculation"  like  it.  It  may  be,  however, 
that  a  sound  morality,  as  well  as  wise  political  economy,  de- 
mands that  guide-books,  like  cottons,  should  all  be  purchased 
from  the  stranger ! 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Return  to  Malaga — A  Midnight  Adventure,  showing  the  Value  of  a 
wise  Wife — Loxa — Colmenar — Descent  to  the  Coast — Voyage  to 
Gibraltar — Population  of  Gibraltar — Its  Situation — The  Alameda 
and  Scare-crow  Statuary — Fortifications — English  and  Spanish  Sol- 
diers— British  Officers  and  the  Siege  of  Vera  Cruz— Contraband 
Trade — Shamlessness  of  it — Its  Decrease — Lord  Brougham  and  the 
Canada  Frontier — Views  about  Gibraltar — Military  Funeral — Penin- 
sular Steamer — Cadiz — Lisbon — Oporto— General  Concha  and  the 
Spanish  Intervention — Vigo — Spanish  Beef — The  Gallego  and  his 
Province. 

THE  heats  of  the  midsummer  are  peculiarly  intense  about 
Madrid,  and  after  a  fortnight  at  Granada,  I  began  to  feel, 
that,  if  I  purposed  to  avoid  them,  it  was  necessary  to  be  up 
and  doing.  I  took  my  place,  accordingly,  in  one  of  the  dil- 
igences for  the  capital,  intending,  after  a  moderate  stay  there, 
to  pass  into  the  northern  provinces,  and  spend  some  time, 
especially,  in  Biscay.  But;  on  the  eve  of  my  proposed  de- 
parture, renewed  indisposition  threatened  to  break  up  my 
plans.  My  friends  protested  that  I  could  not  bear  the  heat 
and  labor  of  so  long  a  journey,  and  the  doctor  said  that 
if  I  undertook  it,  I  would  be  more  valiant  than  the  Cid 
himself — mas  valiente  que  el  Cid!  Increasing  illness 
and  •  debility  soon  turned  the  scale  against  me,  bringing 
to  naught  the  hopes  and  wishes,  cherished  so  long,  and 
which  I  had  believed  so  near  fulfillment.  Only  one  who 
has,  himself,  encountered  such  a  disappointment,  can  esti- 
mate its  bitterness,  and  if  the  reader  should,  at  any  time,  in- 
cline to  think  that  I  have  testified,  after  too  brief  experience, 
of  Spanish  character  and  customs,  he  will  be  just  enough,  I 
hope,  to  grant,  that  I  had  all  the  will  to  see  them  further 
and  to  judffe  them  better. 


348  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

The  only  safe  direction  for  my  travel,  now,  was  home- 
ward, and  as  Malaga  was  the  nearest  sea-port,  I  crept,  upon 
the  afternoon  of  June  14th,  down  to  the  "  gondola  acelerada" 
which  carried  victims  thither.  The  line  of  coaches  professed 
to  be  a  new  one,  and  kept  up,  they  said,  a  famous  opposition. 
Our  vehicle  was  a  regenerated  omnibus,  with  a  coupe  pre- 
fixed. Three  worthy  merchants  had  crowded  themselves 
into  this  latter,  so  that  the  whole  of  the  back  building  was 
divided  between  myself  and  a  fatherly  old  gentleman  who 
took  me  under  his  protection.  It  lacked  an  hour  or  there- 
abouts, of  sunset,  when  we  dashed,  with  cracking  whip,  into 
the  Vega.  The  roads  were  dusty  in  the  extreme,  although 
the  copious  waters  kept  all  the  vegetation  green  and  beauti- 
ful, and  had  it  not  been  for  the  heavy  rain-storm  which 
blessed  us  after  night-fall,  there  is  no  knowing  how  many  of 
us  would  have  suffocated.  Romantic  battle-fields  do  very 
well  to  read  of,  and  to  see  ;  but  when  you  come  to  breathe 
them  in  the  atmosphere,  it  is  not  well  to  have  more  soil 
than  air.  The  city,  with  its  snow-white  buildings,  more 
beautiful  from  far  than  near,  covering  the  hill-side  and 
crowned  by  the  Alhambra,  looked  splendid  and  imposing  in 
the  evening  light.  I  can  not  say,  however,  that  it  saddened 
rne  to  catch  the  last  faint  glimmer  on  the  Torre  de  la  Vela 
or  the  solemn  hills  behind.  I  rather  sank  into  my  place, 
rejoicing  that  I  was  already  nearer,  by  some  league  or  two, 
to  my  long  journey's  end. 

The  night  being  dark  and  the  road  difficult,  our  prudent 
mayoral,  of  course,  had  nothing  with  him  to  give  light,  except 
some  trifling  candle-ends,  which  soon  burned  out  and  left  us 
to  the  instinct  and  the  mercy  of  our  mules.  At  about  mid- 
night, we  were  startled  by  a  sudden  inclination  of  the  car- 
riage to  one  side — a  shock,  a  halt,  and  then  a  volley  of  such 
oaths  and  "arre.f  V  as  would  have  moved  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
if  they  had  been  prayers.  Our  company  forsook  the  ark  at 
once.  It  rained  and  was  as  black  as  Erebus.  We  were  in 
a  slough,  with  a  perpendicular  hill  upon  the  one  side,  and  a 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  349 

gloomy  precipice,  indefinitely  deep,  yawning  horribly  and 
darkly  on  the  other.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  We  were  a 
league  or  two  from  Loxa,  and  the  nearest  venta  was  "  media 
legiia  b  cosa  asi"  (half  a  league  off  or  something  like  it),  as 
the  postillion  said — a  most  mathematical  description  of  an 
indefinite  distance.  For  our  consolation,  we  were  told  that  we 
were  near  a  quondam  robber-haunt,  of  great  repute,  and  we 
imagined,  from  the  noise  and  shouting  of  our  people,  that  they 
were  nothing  loth  to  let  the  footpacls  know  our  whereabouts. 
Suddenly,  the  sound  of  horses'  feet  was  heard,  seemingly  at 
a  full  gallop,  and  rapidly  approaching  down  the  hill.  Nearer 
it  came,  and  nearer,  and  then — the  Malaga  post-boys  rode 
by  us,  offering  no  assistance.  To  extricate  ourselves  seemed 
quite  impossible,  for  we  could  not  see  precisely  the  nature 
of  our  trouble.  The  mules,  wearied  with  vain  pulling, 
began  to  kick,  for  some  variety,  and  our  conductor  and  his 
men  swore  louder  and  worked  less  as  the  confusion  grew. 
To  take  a  night's  rest  on  the  spot,  seemed  something  of  a 
risk  under  the  circumstances,  but  my  companion  and  myself, 
making  a  virtue  of  necessity,  arranged  ourselves  upon  our 
cushions,  notwithstanding.  Suddenly  the  old  man  started 
up  again,  with  Caramba !  and  voto  a  Dios !  saying  that 
he  then  remembered  that  his  wife  had  counseled  him,  never 
to  travel  by  night  without  a  candle  of  his  own,  and  that,  if 
he  mistook  not,  he  had  brought  the  evidences  of  her  prudence, 
all  the  way  from  Madrid,  in  his  pocket !  A  shout  of  tri- 
umph announced  the  discovery.  Every  man,  being  a  tobacco 
smoker,  produced  his  fosforo,  on  the  instant,  and  the  candle 
was  lighted  and  fixed  upon  the  bank  above  us,  in  one  of  the 
coach-lanterns.  A  few  efforts,  properly  directed,  relieved 
us  from  our  peril  speedily,  and  our  mule-bells  rang  with  joy, 
as  we  went  galloping,  once  more,  upon  our  way.  A  blessing, 
indeed,  is  a  wise  woman,  and  well  saith  the  holy  man,  that 
"  her  candle  goeth  not  out  by  night !" 

A  substantial  meal  at  Loxa,  which  by  daylight  would 
have  been  a  dinner,  consoled  our  company  for  their  disaster 


350  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

and  delay  ;  and  we  continued  on  our  journey  through  a  driving 
.rain,  which  lasted  until  late  in  the  next  forenoon,  when  we 
reached  Colmenar,  some  five  or  six  leagues  from  Malaga. 
Day  dawned  upon  the  dreariest,  most  wild  and  arid  hills  I 
ever  saw;  whole  mountains  of  bare,  live  rock;  sharp,  jagged 
peaks,  like  those  of  Montserrat — a  perfect  picture  of  awful, 
repulsive  desolation.  From  Colmenar,  the  turnpike  grew  a 
little  better,  and  the  hills  disclosed  sparse  vineyards,  here  and 
there,  with  an  occasional  tall  aloe  by  the  road-side.  Two 
leagues  from  Malaga,  the  down-hill  work  began,  and  we 
could  catch  dim  glimpses,  now  arid  then,  of  the  blue  sea. 
The  descent  was  entirely  too  rapid  and  exciting  to  be  at  all 
tedious,  even  to  a  weary  traveler.  The  angles  were  so  sharp 
— the  precipices  so  perilous  and  rugged — the  grades  so  steep 
and  narrow — that  even  a  man  with  his  nerves  in  the  best 
order,  might  have  kept  himself  awake  without  exertion. 
Not  only  was  the  lever  of  the  mayoral  called  into  constant 
requisition,  but  now  and  then  a  wheel  was  chained,  and  we 
went  slipping,  sliding,  lurching,  and  creaking,  on  the  brows 
of  giddy  defiles,  which  would  conveniently  have  given  us  a 
thousand  feet  of  rolling  had  we  chosen  to  improve  our  op- 
portunities. At  last,  however,  we  drove  safely  into  Malaga, 
and  I  was  once  more  snugly  harbored,  in  the  welcome  Fonda 
of  the  Alameda. 

After  two  days  rest,  I  continued  my  journey  to  Gibraltar 
in  a  miserable  little  French  steamer.  The  Spanish  steamers 
enter  always  at  Algeziras,  on  the  Spanish  side  of  Gibraltar 
Bay,  and  to  avoid  the  exposure  of  an  open  boat  across,  I  chose 
the  Pourvoyeur,  which  was  going  directly  to  the  Rock,  in 
preference  to  the  fine  packet,  the  Gaditano,  which  was  like- 
wise in  the  harbor  when  I  started.  I  had  hardly  been  on 
board  ten  minutes,  when  I  repented  of  my  choice,  for  the 
cabin  was  exceedingly  confined  and  dirty,  and  every  thing 
on  board  was  redolent  of  that  peculiar  odor,  which  seems 
unhappily  incident  to  French  steam-navigation,  so  far  as  my 
experience  goes.  It  was  eight  o'clock  when  we  weighed 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  351 

anchor,  and  I  could  not  see  the  outlines  of  the  genial  city 
fade  from  my  sight  forever,  without  something  of  the 
sadness  which  clouds  the  parting  from  one's  home.  The 
cordial  welcome— the  warm,  simple  hospitality — the  will- 
ing services,  so  kindly  tendered  and  bestowed — were  things 
a  stranger  does  not  meet  with  always,  and  can  not  easily 
forget. 

The  wind  was  heavily  ahead,  and  I  soon  was  driven 
below.  There  were  three  greasy  sofas  and  two  berths,  in 
the  foul  den.  A  Spaniard,  who  was  taking  home  his  lately 
broken  leg,  was  stretched  upon  one  sofa  :  the  French  consul 
from  Malaga  claimed  title  to  another,  and  I  asserted  the 
right  of  occupancy  to  the  third.  We  had  a  desperate  night 
of  it,  for  the  little  craft  danced  like  a  cock-boat ;  but  our  sick 
friend  managed  to  keep  up  his  spirits,  and  console  his  leg, 
by  constant  reinforcements  of  sausage  and  aguardiente — a 
mode  of  treatment  savoring,  decidedly,  of  the  Granada  system 
of  sopa  and  jamon.  It  was  half-past  nine  next  morning, 
when  we  anchored  in  Gibraltar  harbor  and  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  the  passengers  of  the  Gaditano  sweep  by 
us,  in  a  felucca,  with  a  bouncing  breeze,  while  we  were 
waiting  for  the  lazy  health-officer.  Finally,  that  dignitary 
made  his  appearance,  in  an  open  boat,  and  having  taken  our 
papers  with  a  pair  of  small  tongs,  as  a  man  might  handle 
the  seven  deadly  sins,  gave  us  permission  to  enter  till  the 
evening  gun-fire.  The  American  consul,  being  kind  enough 
to  vouch  for  my  trustworthiness  and  to  give  bond  accord- 
ingly, the  permit  was  duly  enlarged,  and  I  had  the  freedom 
of  her  Majesty's  stupendous  stronghold. 

I  was  kept  eight  days  waiting  in  Gibraltar,  for  the  de- 
parture of  the  Southampton  steamer.  No  one,  I  suppose, 
ever  remained  that  length  of  time  in  the  place,  without  some 
special  business  or  absolute  necessity,  for  it  is  hard  to  imagine 
any  spot  less  pleasant  or  attractive,  in  itself.  Next  in  mag- 
nitude to  the  importance  of  its  possession,  must  be,  to  John 
Bull,  the  ennui  of  keeping  it ;  and  it  is  hardly  to  be  won- 


352  GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 

dered,  that  the  sons  of  Mars  who  are  condemned  to  dwell 
there,  should  comfort  their  hearts  and  redden  their  faces 
with  roast  beef  and  sherry,  and  any  and  every  thing  else 
exciting  or  agreeable.  To  a  stranger,  and  one,  especially, 
from  Spain,  the  change  of  scene  and  customs  is  novel 
and  interesting  for  a  little  while.  The  Jews,  in  their  dark 
gabardines  and  caps — the  Moors,  who  stalk  about,  hand- 
some, reserved,  and  sullen — the  Highlanders,  with  nodding 
plumes — and  the  stout  "red-coats,"  gathering  at  sound  of 
drum  and  bagpipe— make  up,  all,  a  motley  and  strange  crowd, 
not  easily  seen  elsewhere.  Pn  a  day  or  two,  however,  you 
have  had  enough  of  this,  and  when  you  have  gone  round  the 
works,  and  taken  some  few  strolls  about  the  Alameda,  you 
are  a  patient  man,  indeed,  or  very  stupid,  if  you  do  not  long 
for  change. 

The  town  lies  crowded  on  the  little  slip  of  sand  which  slopes 
between  the  rock  and  sea.  A  long  and  narrow  street  runs 
nearly  through  the  whole  of  it,  and  this  embraces  the  chief 
shops  and  business-places.  The  rides  and  walks  are  either 
down  toward  Europa  Point,  or,  in  the  opposite  direction,  to 
the  Spanish  lines.  The  Alameda  is  outside  the  walls  in  the 
direction  of  the  Point,  and  has  been  cultivated  with  consider- 
able taste.  It  lacks  the  heavy  shade  which  the  hot  climate 
seems  so  to  require,  but  is  filled  with  pleasant  walks,  and 
beautiful  parterres  of  flowers.  There  is  a  statue  of  General 
Elliott  in  the  midst,  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  has  been  the 
means  of  preserving  the  gardens  from  the  visitation  of  depre- 
dating birds  ;  or  perhaps  that  happy  result  is  due  to  a  bronze 
bust  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  which  is  in  the  same  neigh- 
borhood; both  of  these  works  of  art  belonging  to  the  class 
elsewhere  called  "  scare-crows,"  and  sometimes  "  potato- 
bogles." 

Gibraltar,  like  all  Andalusia,  has  its  air,  at  evening,  full 
of  darting  birds,  which  the  English,  there,  call  "  swifts ;" 
ever  on  the  wing,  and  twittering  and  gliding  in  myriads.  If 
they  be  the  "temple-haunting  martlet,"  what  do  they  where 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  353 

there  are  no  temples,  and  the  very  houses  are  as  bad  as  need 
be  ?     If  they 

"  —do  approve, 

By  their  loved  mansionry,  that  the  Heaven's  breath 
Smells  wooingly" 

there,  they  have  degenerated  strangely  ;  for  the  air  is  ever 
full  of  dust,  strongly  mephitic,  and  inclined  to  fishy  smells  ! 
In  Spanish  Andalusia — where  they  dwell  about  old  churches, 
and  circle  round  gray,  lofty  towers,  or  fill  the  evening  air 
above  the  green  paseos,  or  make  themselves  merry  where 
the  Moor  was  glad  before  them,  in  his  day — there  is  some 
reason  in  them,  and  they  do  not  bring  discredit  on  their 
family  ?  But  in  Gibraltar  ?  They  are  martlets,  surely,  not 
of  romance,  but  "progress" — birds  of  business,  not  of  senti- 
ment ;  working  for  their  living  like  the  Jews  ;  flying  out  to 
hunt  musquitoes  !  Of  nights,  I  trust  they  go  out  wisely 
to  the  old  Moorish  fortress  on  the  hill,  and  sleep  at  villas, 
like  the  cockney  merchants.  So  should,  at  least,  all  reason- 
able creatures  in  Gibraltar,  that  have  wings  and  taste. 

Although,  in  former  times,  it  was  believed  that  all  the  art 
of  war  had  been  exhausted  on  Gibraltar,  they  were  still, 
during  my  stay,  advancing  rapidly  with  new  and  heavy 
works.  Indeed,  it  was  impossible  to  look  around  you,  with- 
out admiring  the  perfect,  magnificent,  and  thorough  style,  in 
which  all  things  were  done  that  had  relation  to  defense. 
Wealth,  science,  skill,  and  liberality  were  visible  at  every 
turn.  The  chambers,  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  are  won- 
derful as  monuments  of  labor — though,  perhaps,  ill-spent,  if 
it  be  true,  as  is  asserted,  that  the  smoke  and  the  reverbera- 
tion are  almost  as  fatal  to  the  garrison  as  the  shot  to  the 
enemy.  The  barracks,  bomb  and  ball-proof,  are  of  stone, 
well  built,  commodious  and  airy.  The  men,  however,  though 
well-clad  and  clean,  did  not  impress  me  as  particularly  mar- 
tial in  their  bearing  ;  excepting  always  the  fine  Highland 
regiments,  whose  manly,  gallant  style  could  pass  unnoticed 
nowhere.  The  Spanish  peasant  makes  a  prouder-looking 


354  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

soldier  than  the  Englishman.  He  has  more  lightness  and 
elasticity  of  muscle  ;  more  spirit  in  his  step  ;  more  fire  in  his 
eye.  The  English  troops,  however,  that  I  saw,  must  have 
been  raw  recruits,  for  they  were,  many  of  them,  very  young, 
and  had  not  yet  been  caned,  as  usual,  into  a  proper  carriage. 
Brandy  was  in  too  many  of  their  faces.  Occasionally,  as 
you  passed  their  barracks,  you  might  see  them,  when  off 
duty,  reading  quietly — a  thing  the  Spanish  soldier  rarely 
meddles  with :  but  then  you  met  them,  oftener,  reeling 
through  the  streets,  an  accident  so  rare  among  the  Spaniards 
that  it  may  be  said  never  to  happen.  The  strange  contrast 
in  this  matter,  was  indeed  one  of  the  things  that  struck  me, 
first,  on  my  arrival.  During  three  months  in  Spain,  I  had 
not  seen  more  than  three  persons,  I  imagine,  who  had  shown 
signs  of  intemperance  in  drinking.  During  the  first  day  at 
Gibraltar,  I  certainly  met  scores,  whose  eyes  and  noses  bore 
unquestionable  evidence  against  them.  There  was  a  dram- 
shop within  two  doors  of  the  office  of  the  "  Religious  Tract 
Society,"  and  one  of  its  customers  was  leaning  drunk  against 
the  latter  building,  on  the  first  day  that  I  passed  it ! 

Perhaps  it  is  with  reference  to  these  habits,  that  the  Brit- 
ish soldiers  are  so  carefully  protected  from  the  sun.  By 
every  sentry-box,  where  there  is  any  thing  like  exposure,  you 
see  a  large,  thick  mat,  or  screen,  raised  on  a  staff,  and  placed 
so  that  the  soldier  can,  at  all  times,  arrange  himself  a  com- 
fortable shelter.  The  Spanish  soldier,  at  the  Lines,  has  no 
such  trouble  taken  for  his  health.  He  lights  his  cigarrito, 
notwithstanding,  shoulders  his  musket,  and  says  "  bien  /" 
Well  for  him  is  it  that  his  rations  are  so  frugal.  The  sun- 
shine bronzes  him — the  Briton  dies  of  fever. 

Of  course,  I  had  no  opportunity  of  judging  of  the  garrison, 
except  by  what  I  saw  in  public.  I  was  struck,  however, 
by  an  article  I  read,  while  at  the  Club-house,  which  gave 
me  new  ideas  with  reference  to  the  army  of  Great  Britain. 
It  appeared  editorially  in  the  "  Naval  and  Military  Gazette" 
of  May  22.  1847,  and  proceeded  after  this  wise.  "  Mor- 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  355 

als  are  low  in  the  army.  There  are  few  officers,  and  fewer 
of  those  under  them,  who  consider  it  disreputable  to  over- 
indulge in  drinking,  the  coarse  vices,  &c.  Two-thirds, .  at 
least,  of  the  officers  in  every  corps,  may  be  said  to  be  men 
without  much  education,  whose  minds  are  uncultivated — who 
seldom  read  and  never  study — to  whom,  even  the  very  few 
books  required  for  learning  their  military  parade-duties  are 
sealed  volumes."  The  writer  then  went  on  to  recommend 
a  more  rigid  system  of  examination,  and  added,  "  By  this 
device  we  should  no  longer  have  young  men  joining  regi- 
ments, unable  to  spell,  or  write  the  most  ordinary  letter, 
ignorant  of  common  arithmetic,  and  guiltless  of  geometry  and 
algebra  ! Though  there  are  some  of  the  most  accom- 
plished and  best  informed  men  to  be  found  in  the  service, 
they  are  the  exceptions,  which  prove  the  general  remark 
true." 

The  reader  may  imagine  how  strange  such  things  appear- 
ed, to  one  who,  but  a  week  before,  had  read  in  the  same 
journal  an  article  referring  to  the  siege  of  Vera  Cruz,  in 
which  the  editor  observed — "  Although  our  cousins  across 
the  water  possess  bravery  and  have  made  much  progress  in 
the  art  of  war,  chiefly  from  the  instruction  given  to  their 
officers,  they  have  not  yet  learned  to  fight  like  gentlemen  !" 
I  could  not  avoid  thinking  that  our  red-coat  "  cousins"  might 
possibly  be  deemed  odd  judges  of  the  soldier  and  the  gentle- 
man, if  their  description  of  themselves  were  true.  Journal- 
ists, however,  are  fond  of  ample  generalities,  and  we  may 
charitably  hope  that  there  was  quite  as  much  exaggeration 
in  the  British  picture,  as  there  was  flippant  arrogance  in  the 
pert  fling  at  Jonathan. 

The  Club-house,  where  I  lodged,  was  near  the  water, 
and  just  in  front  of  the  Exchange.  Upon  the  open  space, 
between  it  and  the  latter  building,  the  chief  public  trafficking 
went  on  ;  and  there,  at  early  morning,  you  might  hear  the 
voice  and  hammer  of  the  auctioneer,  and  see  the  money- 
hunting  sons  of  Israel  peering  in  search  of  bargains.  The 


356  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

commerce  of  Gibraltar,  now  however — though  still  contrast- 
ing briskly  with  the  slow  movement  of  many  of  the  Spanish 
towns — has  fallen  far  below  its  ancient  mark.  In  fact,  the 
Hock  and  all  that  thereon  lies,  are  but  a  huge  contrivance 
for  the  smugglers  ;  and  since  the  Spanish  guarda-costas  have 
called  in  the  aid  of  steam,  and  the  carabinero  system  has 
been  fully  and  completely  organized,  there  has  been  a  check, 
by  land  and  water,  which  has  closed  large  numbers  of  the 
depots  in  Gibraltar,  and  sent  the  shrewd  Ingleses  to  the 
aafer  frontier  of  their  colony  of  Portugal.*  The  hardy  ras- 
cals in  the  Ronda  Mountains  would  sigh  and  tell  you,  when 
I  was  among  them,  that  the  times  were  very  hard,  and  all 
things  going  very  much  to  ruin.  "No  hay  contrabando /" 
they  would  say,  <"y  que  se  hace?"  (There  is  no  smug- 
gling !  What's  to  be  done  ?) 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  British  share  in  plundering 
the  revenue  and  illegally  stocking  the  markets  of  the  Penin- 
sula— but  the  scandalous  and  open  violation  of  all  national 
decency,  in  that  particular,  about  Gibraltar,  is  really  so 
heroic,  as  to  deserve  further  notice.  "  Gibraltar,"  says  Ford, 
"  is  the  grand  depot  for  English  goods,  especially  cottons, 
which  are  smuggled  into  Spain,  along  the  whole  coast,  from 
Cadiz  to  Benidorme,  to  the  great  benefit  of  the  Spanish 
authorities,  placed  nominally  to  prevent  what  they  really 
encourage.  The  south  of  Spain  is  thus  supplied  with  as 
much  of  our  wares  as  it  is  enabled  to  purchase.  -No  treaty 
of  commerce  would  much  increase  the  consumption."  Of 
the  way  in  which  the  thing  is  done,  Lord  Londonderry  gives 
the  following  modest  and  explicit  account : — "  The  goods," 
he  says,  "  are  forced  in,  by  scores  of  large  and  small  smug- 
gling boats,  who  watch  their  time  when  the  Spanish  guarda- 

*  It  is  estimated  that  66375,000  annually,  have  been  realized,  of 
late  years,  in  Portugal,  from  duties  on  the  British  goods  imported  to 
be  smuggled  into  Spain.  The  late  reform  in  the  Spanish  tariff  is  con- 
sidered by  the  Portuguese  as  a  death-blow  to  their  revenue,  inasmuch 
as  the  English  will  now  find  it  cheapest,  to  ship  directly  and  honestly 
to  the  Spanish  ports. 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  357 

costas  are  not  on  the  alert ;  steal  from  under  the  Rock,  run 
along  the  shore,  and  land  their  goods  by  previously  planned 
stratagems.  If  chased,  they  retire  under  cover  of  Europa 
Point,  and  our  guns  do  not  hesitate  to  fire  on  any  Spanish 
boat  chasing  within  range  of  the  fortress  :  our  policy  being, 
to  give  every  encouragement  and  protection  to  the  smugglers !" 
In  the  spring  of  1844,  a  Spanish  revenue  vessel,  in  hot  pur- 
suit of  a  contrabandist,  was  sunk  by  one  of  the  Gibraltar 
batteries.  Assistance  was  sent  out  to  her  from  the  garrison  ; 
but  the  gallant  officer  who  had  command  indignantly  refused 
all  aid  from  those  who  had  perpetrated  the  outrage.  Several 
of  her  crew  were  lost,  and  the  affair  created  a  very  natural 
excitement. 

After  the  decisions  of  the  English  courts,  that  a  contract 
to  defraud  the  revenue  of  a  foreign  country  is  sufficiently 
moral  to  be  enforced,  while  a  similar  contrivance,  in  viola- 
tion of  their  own  system,  is  utterly  unrighteous  and  abomin- 
able, there  was  not  much  to  be  hoped,  certainly,  from  the 
national  comity  in  such  matters.  But,  really,  that  any 
nation — after  exhibitions,  so  public,  practical,  violent,  and 
shameless,  as  Lord  Londonderry  describes — should  send  mis- 
sionaries out,  to  preach  free-trade  on  principles  of  univer- 
sal philanthropy,  and  expect  to  be  believed — does  seem  to 
indicate  a  faith  in  the  infinite  expansibility  of  humbug, 
which  sets  imagination  at  defiance  !  Lord  Brougham  has 
recently  had  the  candor,  in  the  House  of  Lordsj  to  avow 
that  the  chief  value  of  Canada  to  the  mother  country  is  de- 
rived from  the  facilities  which  its  ample  frontier  affords  for 
smuggling  into  the  United  States.  All  honor  to  his  Lord- 
ship's truthfulness !  It  only  remains  for  us  to  have  an  essay, 
from  the  same  noble  and  philosophical  hand,  upon  the  differ- 
ence, in  point  of  "natural  theology,"  between  thieving,  of  the 
sort  which  he  defends,  and  what  they  call,  in  England,  "  Penn- 
sylvania ethics." 

As  Dr.  Johnson  said  of  Scotland,  so  it  is  true  of  Gibraltar — 
the  finest  views  in  it  are  the  views  out.  In  the  noble  har- 


358  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

bor,  there  are  fleets  always  at  anchor,  ships  of  the  line  and 
cannon-belted  steamers  lying  among  peaceful  merchantmen — 
the  lion  and  the  lamb  !  Inland,  beyond  the  lines,  the  Span- 
ish city  of  San  Roque  crowns  a  graceful  hill.  Opposite 
Europa  Point,  you  see  the  lofty  cliff  of  Ceuta,  the  twin 
column  of  Hercules,  its  castle  readily  distinguishable,  when 
the  atmosphere  is  clear.  Over  the  bay,  directly  opposite 
the  town,  the  white  houses  of  Algeziras  cluster. on  the  water's 
edge.  Up  and  down  the  Straits,  innumerable  vessels  pass, 
and  if  you  have  a  speculative  turn,  their  comings  and  their 
goings  will  give  you  loops  enough  to  hang  your  meditations 
on.  I  remember  how  beautiful  the  scene  appeared,  one 
breezy  afternoon,  when  I  followed  a  military  funeral  beyond 
the  southern  gate.  The  procession  passed,  imposingly,  along 
the  road  which  skirts  the  batteries  beside  the  sea-wall,  and 
as  it  drew  more  near  the  cemetery,  I  mounted  to  a  high 
point  of  the  Alameda,  whence  the  train  was  visible,  across  a 
deep  ravine.  The  soldier  they  were  burying  was  a  veteran, 
who  had  resided  at  Gibraltar  more  than  thirty  years,  and 
they  bore  him,  proudly,  to  the  grave,  with  all  the  pomp 
and  honors  of  his  calling.  Yet  as  the  mournful  notes 
of  the  rich  music  came  swelling  back,  in  echoes  from  the 
cliffs,  and  the  quick  volleys  of  the  musketry  announced  that 
all  was  over — I  could  but  wonder  that  a  man,  who  had  a 
home  across  the  waters,  should  live  and  die,  in  his  old  age, 
away  from  it,  on  such  a  cheerless  spot  as  that!  Still,  how- 
ever, they  keep  their  nationality  alive,  by  making  the  wild 
rock  and  sands  as  much  like  Britain  as  they  can,  despite  the 
climate,  and  the  Moors,  and  Jews,  and  monkeys.  You  may 
hear  the  bagpipes,  at  all  reasonable  hours,  and  often  at  the 
most  unreasonable.  Go  by  the  Highland  barracks,  now 
and  then,  and  you  will  stumble  on  a  chiel,  parading  up  and 
down  in  solitary  grandeur,  with  his  pipes  tight-squeezed  be- 
neath his  arm,  making  them  squeal  in  agony,  and  seeming 
to  enjoy  the  sport,  in  the  most  cruel  and  excited  manner. 
Who  will  wonder,  after  seeing,  and  more  particularly  after 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN. 


hearing,  such  performances,  that  an  Indian  should  spend 
hours  at  rattling  a  stone  within  a  gourd,  quite  ravished  by 
the  harmony  ? 

I  left  Gibraltar,  on  the  afternoon  of  June  27th,  in  the 
peninsular  packet,  Jupiter,  a  moderately  comfortable  steamer, 
as  such  things  go,  out  of  the  land  of  Fulton.  The  Straits 
were  full  of  vessels  steering  out  with  a  fine  easterly  wind. 
Our  purser  told  me  that  he  had  counted  over  three  hundred 
from  the  Rock  Signal-house  that  morning.  He  overtasked 
his  memory,  perhaps,  but  they  were  very  numerous,  and  it 
was  a  beautiful  spectacle  in  the  fine  moonlight,  as  we  went 
by  them,  one  by  one,  not  always  easily,  so  bouncing  was  the 
breeze.  I  did  not  go  below,  till  we  had  passed  the  lofty 
light-house  of  Tarifa,  and  I  woke  next  morning  when  we 
were  in  Cadiz  harbor.  Our  passengers,  as  they  came  out 
to  us,  brought  with  them  troops  of  friends,  and  we  went  on 
our  way  again,  with  cheerful  wishes  of  "  feliz  viaje  /"  (hap- 
py voyage)  echoing  around  us.  On  the  afternoon  of  the 
29th,  we  were  at  Lisbon,  where  we  remained  a  day.  It  is 
a  stately  city,  at  a  distance,  but  I  found  it  wholly  given  up, 
within,  to  noxious  smells  and  all  conceivable  uncleanliness. 
The  allied  fleets  lay  broadside  on  the  town ;  the  proud  Brit- 
ish three-deckers  looking  powerful  enough  to  annihilate  half 
a  dozen  nations  like  the  kingdom  of  Dona  Maria  da  Gloria. 
Her  Majesty's  own  royal  navy,  worthless  and  dismantled, 
composed  of  a  few  shabby  ships  and  dirty  hulks,  might  have 
quelled  the  revolution,  by  breeding  a  pestilence — but  did  not 
appear  formidable,  otherwise,  though  spreading  out  more 
banners  than  would  have  been  enough  for  the  Armada. 

We  anchored  off  Oporto,  on  the  30th,  the  day  that 
Concha,  the  Spanish  General,  made  his  entry  into  the  city. 
Unless  our  glasses  very  much  deceived  us,  we  could  see  the 
troops  crossing  a  hill,  upon  their  way.  One  would  have 
thought  that  memories  of  the  Due  d'Angouleme,  and  other 
visitors,  would  have  taught  a  Spanish  cabinet  some  lessons, 
on  the  policy  and  moral  of  foreign  interventions.  Some 


360  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

people,  however,  it  appears,  can  never  learn.  John  Bull 
had  his  own  reasons  for  his  course.  When  popular  institu- 
tions and  free  principles  come  into  conflict  with  port  wine, 
John  knows  his  cue,  and  he  would  have  bombarded  Oporto 
and  dispersed  the  revolutionary  windbags  (as  Carlyle  would 
call  them)  in  a  trice,  had  it  not  been  that  British  subjects 
owned,  perhaps,  more  property  about  the  city  than  the 
Portuguese. 

On  the  first  day  of  July,  we  made  our  entry  into  the 
magnificent  Bay  of  Vigo,  where  it  seemed  to  me  that  all 
the  navies  of  the  world  might  safely  ride.  It  is  surrounded 
by  high  hills,  on  all  sides  save  the  entrance,  which  is  guarded 
by  two  rocky  islands  that  almost  complete  the  circle.  The 
town  is  built  upon  a  hill-side,  which  is  crowned  by  an  old 
castle,  all  looking  dingy,  dirty,  and  forlorn  enough.  Out- 
side the  town,  however,  all  is  green  and  beautiful,  and  we 
were  anchored  at  so  short  a  distance  from  the  beach,  that 
we  could  readily  perceive  the  traces  of  admirable  cultivation 
every  where.  There  were  sent  on  board  a  dozen  fine  large 
beeves  for  England — a  strange  thing,  I  thought,  considering 
the  philippics  of  the  English  against  the  Spanish  cow-meat 
(carne  de  vaca),  which,  in  truth,  is  not  the  choicest  always. 
I  took  the  trouble  to  make  some  inquiries,  and  the  captain 
told  me  that  he  rarely  made  a  homeward  voyage,  without 
a  shipment  of  the  like,  and  that  although  the  freight  upon 
each  bullock  was  three  pounds  sterling,  to  Southampton,  and 
the  cost  of  transportation  up  to  London  not  a  trifle,  the 
speculators  were  still  able  to  sustain  a  profitable  competition 
with  the  domestic  breeders  in  the  London  market.  What 
a  lesson  to  the  Spaniards — if  their  government  would  but 
encourage  cows  instead  of  brigadier-generals,  and  substitute 
prize  medals  for  stars  and  crosses  of  honor  ! 

The  Gallegos,  under  wiser  institutions,  might  rival  any  peo- 
ple in  rural  and  commercial  industry.  Their  province,  though 
quite  mountainous,  is  stocked  with  admirable  timber  ;  their 
coast  abounds  with  ample,  well-protected  harbors ;  and  their 


GLIMPSES   OF  SPAIN.  361 

soil  is  fruitful  in  the  best  productions  of  a  temperate  climate. 
They,  themselves,  are  honest,  patient,  frugal,  and  industrious, 
and  yet,  at  home,  they  do  not  prosper  greatly.  Every  year 
large  numbers  of  them  are  compelled  to  seek  their  humble 
fortunes  in  the  other  provinces.  Meet  them  where  you  may, 
though  in  the  lowest  and  most  menial  stations,  you  find 
them  noted,  always,  for  probity  and  independence.  As 
porters,  muleteers,  and  carriers,  you  may  trust  them,  literally, 
with  untold  gold.  They  are  not  intellectually  bright,  in 
general,  or  very  notable  for  manners  or  appearance.  Their 
heavy,  uncouth  persons  are,  indeed,  a  theme  of  constant  and 
proverbial  ridicule,  among  their  livelier  brethren,  with  whom 
the  very  word  Gallego  is  a  synonym  for  all  things  rude 
and  loutish  : 

"Es  el  Gallego  un  animal, 
Descanso  de  caballerias 
Mayores  y  menores, 
Cuya  pisada  no  tiene  cur  a  /" 

Yet,  in  despite  of  gibes  and  proverbs,  their  steadiness  and 
manly  energy  of  purpose  make  them  prosper,  where  their  gay 
revilers  starve.  Like  the  Savoyards,  they  carry  back  their 
earnings  with  them,  to  their  native  mountains,  which  no  one 
has  ever  known  them  to  forget  or  cease  to  love.  What  ele- 
ments of  vigorous  and  prosperous  nationality  there  are  in 
such  a  people  !  What  a  "  land  of  steady  habits"  theirs 
might  be,  if  wisely  and  beneficently  governed  !  What  a 
blessing,  if,  in  the  spread  of  liberal  and  just  opinions  now 
going  through  their  country,  some  seeds  should  fall  on  fertile 
ground  among  them,  and  spring  up  to  happy  fruit  ! 

Q 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Conclusion — French,  English,  and  American  Views  of  Spain — Spirit 
of  Travelers — Spanish  Character,  Social,  Political,  and  Religious — 
Origin,  Condition,  and  Remedy  of  their  Political  System — A  Moral 
for  Ourselves. 

THE  mid-day  sun  was  high  above  the  hills  of  Vigo,  when 
we  started,  once  again,  upon  our  way,  and  as  I  gazed  iny 
last,  regretfully,  upon  the  pleasant  land  of  Spain,  the  ocean 
and  the  deep-green  shores  looked  beautiful  and  glad.  The 
little  period  within  which  my  visit  had  been  narrowed,  un- 
expectedly, might  have  been  devoted,  I  felt  conscious,  to 
studying,  in  other  lands  of  better  fortune,  a  higher  scale  of 
national  development  and  cultivation,  yet  in  no  country  could 
I  have  enjoyed  more  fully  the  charm  of  novelty  and  fresh- 
ness ;  from  none  could  I  have  parted  with  kindlier  or  more 
pleasant  recollections. 

The  traveler  who  visits  Spain,  for  pleasure  or  improve- 
ment, will  fail  egregiously,  he  may  be  sure,  of  both,  unless 
he  makes  his  mind  up  to  forget  the  fables  and  the  follies  he 
has  read  and  heard — the  prejudices  of  his  social,  political, 
and  religious  education.  A  Frenchman,  for  example,  must 
work  a  revolution  in  himself — the  only  revolution,  by-the- 
by,  which  he  is  not  willing  to  undertake.  France  has,  as 
yet,  sent  no  De  Tocquevilles  into  Spain.  The  better  class 
of  her  traveleis  have  generally  carried  with  them  that  sys- 
tematic devotion  to  their  own  "  idees"  and  national  "pre- 
scriptions," which  so  frequently  interferes  with  a  French- 
man's judgment,  and  nowhere  so  decidedly  as  in  the  Penin- 
sula ;  for  France  and  Spain,  like 

"  Oil  and  water,  woman  and  a  secret, 
Are  hostile  properties." 


GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN.  363 

Joined  with  this  usual  disqualification,  there  is  also  the  notion 
so  prevalent  in  France,  that  the  Peninsula  is  but  an  appan- 
age of  hers,  and  should  be  judged  and  dealt  with  on  that 
theory.  Of  the  less  grave  and  philosophical  French  trav- 
elers, the  great  majority  have  their  ideas  of  the  Span- 
iards chiefly  from  the  Barber  of  Seville.  They  find  you, 
every  where,  "  des  Figaro,  des  Almavivd"  and  seem  to 
think  that  they  are  wandering  among  the  heroes  of  an  opera 
or  melo-drame,  who  disappoint  them,  hugely,  when  they  fall 
below  the  Paris  standard  of  stage-scenery  and  decorations. 
In  cookery,  too,  the  Gaul  holds  his  neighbors  to  be  merely 
savages.  He  could  endure  them  as  cut-throats  and  banditti, 
but  then  they  villainously  feed  on  garlic  and  garbanzos,  the 
moral  obliquity  of  which  he  can  not  tolerate.  With  feelings 
and  ideas  such  as  these,  of  course,  he  travels  pleasantly  and 
usefully.  The  Spaniards  call  him  a  "  gavacho,"  and  he 
writes  that  they  are  "  des  barbares  /"  The  reader  who 
may  think  this  highly  colored,  will  change  his  mind,  per- 
haps, on  reference  to  Dumas. 

The  English  traveler,  though  less  abstract  and  artificial, 
and  more  practically  sensible  than  his  mercurial  rival,  is 
more  impregnable,  if  possible,  in  his  personal  prejudices  and 
social  and  individual  habitudes,  than  the  Frenchman  in  his 
theories  and  fanatical  generalizations.  He  has,  in  a  ten-fold 
proportion,  what  might  be  called  the  traveling-carriage-pro- 
pensity— a  sort  of  congenital  affinity  with  the  snail,  in  that 
turn  of  mind  which  suggests  to  him  the  necessity  of  carrying 
his  own  home,  bodily,  with  him,  wherever  he  goes.  Edu- 
cated and  clever  as  he  may  be,  his  prejudices  are  a  portion 
of  his  mind  and  education.  Protestantism  is  the  part  of  his 
moral  wardrobe  which  he  especially  furbishes  and  puts  on, 
for  a  jaunt  to  Catholic  countries.  To  Spain,  in  particular, 
he  carries  a  few  of  the  notions  and  impressions  which  have 
come  down  from  the  days  of  the  invincible  Armada  ;  not 
diminished,  perhaps,  by  the  view  he  has  had,  in  his  childhood, 
of  the  captured  instruments  of  torture  still  on  exhibition  at 


364  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

the  Tower.  Comfort,  of  all  the  Dii  minorum  gentium,  is  the 
deity  whose  image  he  specially  packs  up  among  his  valuables, 
when  he  goes  to  see  a  people,  whom  climate  and  circumstances 
have  taught  to  despise  it.  To  Spain,  he  carries  the  persuasion 
also,  that  he  ought  to  be  regarded  by  the  natives  as  one  of 
their  national  patrons  and  benefactors,  for  his  services  and 
those  of  his  compatriots,  during  the  war  of  the  Peninsula ; 
forgetting  that  England  selected  Spain  as  a  battle-ground, 
for  her  own  salvation  not  that  of  the  Spaniards,  and  that 
she  has  endeavored,  as  far  as  she  has  been  able,  to  make 
Spain  pay  the  piper.  More  than  that,  too,  he  forgets  that 
the  last  way  in  the  world  to  excite  the  gratitude  of  a  proud 
and  sensitive  people,  is  to  throw  their  obligations  always  in 
their  teeth,  and  to  demand  as  tribute,  what  is  contemptible, 
unless  it  spring  from  a  spontaneous  sentiment.  That  a 
traveler,  in  such  a  frame  of  mind,  is  hardly  a  fair  or  candid 
judge  of  what  he  sees,  it  needs  no  ghost  to  tell.  That  he 
is  not  likely  to  elicit  from  the  people  whom  he  visits,  a  dis- 
play of  their  most  excellent  or  pleasant  qualities,  seems  just 
as  obvious,  on  every  rational  theory  of  human  nature. 

The  book  of  Mr.  Ford  is  a  perfect  illustration  of  what  has 
just  been  said.  It  is  learned,  able,  humorous,  and  full  of  a 
profound  acquaintance  with  Spanish  politics,  society,  and 
history.  Yet  it  views  every  thing  through  an  exclusively 
English  medium.  It  judges  every  thing  by  English  tastes, 
maxims,  and  prejudices.  It  is  full  of  English  passions, 
grudges,  and  partialities.  The  Peninsular  war  is  its  absorb- 
ing theme.  Like  the  unhappy  gentleman  in  Punch — who 
was  persecuted  by  the  migrations  of  the  Wellington  statue, 
which  haunted  him  all'  night  and  looked  awfully  in  at  his 
chamber-window,  in  the  morning — Mr.  Ford  sees  the  semp- 
iternal "Duke,"  in  highways  and  by-ways,  on  land  and  on 
water,  in  town  and  country.  What  "the  Duke"  said  is  an 
oracle  ;  what  he  did,  is  the  standard  of  right.  As  the 
Spaniards  agree  or  disagree  with  that  standard,  so  are  they 
held  worthy  or  unworthy.  They  and  their  country  are  made 


GLIMPSES  OF   SPAIN.  3G5 

merely  secondary  objects,  in  the  background  of  the  picture, 
and  are  dwarfed  and  draped  according  to  the  effect  which  is 
sought  for  the  principal  figure.  This  may  be  all  right,  in  a 
patriotic  point  of  view,  but,  as  to  its  being  sensible  or  just 
to  the  Spaniards,  it  can  hardly  be  deemed  impertinent  for 
one  to  entertain  his  own  opinion. 

In  our  country,  the  common  opinion  of  Spain  is  mostly 
based  upon  the  English  notion,  which  we  principally  read 
and  follow,  as  indeed  we  very  frequently  do,  in  regard  to 
other  countries  and  matters,  to  our  manifest  stultification. 
We  have  added  to  it  some  trifling  improvements  of  our  own, 
predicated  upon  our  experience  of  the  half-breed  Indians 
and  negroes  in  Mexico  and  South  America,  whom  we  call 
"  Spaniards,"  and  take  to  be  types  of  the  race.  Seeing 
but  few  of  the  natives  of  the  Peninsula  among  us — 
knowing  but  little  of  their  language,  and  still  less  of  their 
literature — rarely  visiting  their  country,  too — we  have  a 
sort  of  indefinite  idea  of  the  Spaniard,  which  places  him 
about  half-way  between  a  bloody-minded  grand-inquisitor 
and  an  "  illustrious  hidalgo"  of  Major  Monsoon's  Portuguese 
regiment.  I  speak  of  vulgar  opinion,  merely,  as  it  shows 
itself,  upon  occasions,  in  Congress,  in  "literary  essays,"  school- 
books,  and  the  less  cultivated  branches  of  the  periodical  press. 
A  literature,  of  which  Prescott's  and  Irving's  productions  are 
a  portion,  is  least  of  all  obnoxious,  in  its  higher  walks,  to 
any  such  imputations  of  ignorance  or  injustice. 

Be  the  traveler  Frenchman,  Englishman,  or  from  among 
ourselves,  he  must  remember,  if  he  would  do  justice  and 
have  pleasure,  that  he  goes  among  a  people  whose  manners, 
customs,  tastes  and  thoughts,  are  different  from  all  that  he 
has  seen.  If  he  should  be  disposed  to  think  them  barbarous 
and  benighted,  because  of  that  difference,  he  had  better  stay 
at  home.  They  are  proud,  sensitive,  and  quick  to  feel  an 
insult  or  a  slight.  If  he  is  determined  to  square  them  by 
his  standard,  not  their  own  ;  to  laugh  at  what  they  venerate, 
and  violate  or  ridicule  the  maxims  they  respect ;  he  and  they 


366  GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN. 

will  soon  cordially  despise  each  other,  and  no  good  will  come 
of  their  contact.  If  he  plays  the  Pharisee  upon  them,  and 
thanks  Heaven  perpetually,  in  their  presence,  that  he  is  not 
like  such  publicans,  he  will  only  harden  their  hearts,  and 
stiffen  their  necks  against  him.  Let  him  meet  them,  how- 
ever, in  a  tolerant  and  kindly  spirit,  and  there  is  no  people 
whose  confidence  and  friendship  he  can  more  thoroughly  or 
promptly  win.  Let  him  feel  and  manifest  an  honest  and  a 
liberal  wish  to  understand  their  country  fairly,  and  they  will 
open  their  bosoms  to  him.  They  will  speak  to  him  of  what 
is  bad  as  well  as  what  is  worthy,  and  though  he  may  dis- 
cover that  they  prize  their  country  more  than  all  the  world, 
it  is  not,  he  will  find,  because  they  close  their  eyes  upon  its 
weaknesses,  but  that  they  love  and  venerate  it,  notwith- 
standing. In  dignified  and  manly  courtesy- — the  bearing 
which  can  only  spring  from  a  just  sense  of  what  is  due  to 
others  and  one's  self —  they  have  their  rivals  nowhere. 
With  few  appliances  of  luxury  or  wealth  (comparatively 
speaking),  they  will  bid  him  cordially  and  kindly  welcome 
to  the  much  or  little  that  they  have.  Among  them  he  will 
meet,  wherever  he  may  go,  intelligent  and  educated  persons, 
whose  society  a  man  might  profitably  cultivate  in  any  coun- 
try. In  almost  all  of  them,  in  every  rank,  he  will  discover, 
particularly  prominent,  a  quick  perception  and  a  striking 
power  of  shrewd  and  ready  observation.  Exclusive  as  their 
system  of  religion  still  continues,  in  its  connection  with  their 
politics  and  laws — in  private  life  it  does  not  enter  to  disturb 
or  irritate.  At  this  day,  indeed,  there  is  more  indifference 
than  intolerance.  Decorum  is  exacted,  where  a  stranger  bears 
a  part  in  public  demonstrations  ;  but  it  is  only  the  respectful 
observance,  to  which  no  gentleman  needs  prompting.  His 
private  ways  of  thinking,  they  as  little  pry  into  or  care  for, 
as  any  people  that  I  know.  If  allusion  be  made  to  them, 
they  dismiss  the  subject  with  the  charitable,  quiet  proverb, 
"  su  alma,  su  palma" — (as  his  soul  is,  so  shall  his  reward 
be).  In  conversation,  they  are  fluent,  sprightly,  and  acute; 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  367 

tolerant  and  affable  in  social  intercourse  ;  tender  and  affec- 
tionate in  their  domestic  relations.  Yet  these  things,  and 
all  the  other  good  that  may  be  in  them,  are  a  sealed  volume, 
never  to  be  opened  by  one  who  will  insist  on  taking  the 
people  upon  his  own  terms.  Their  good-will  is  essential  to 
any  thing  like  a  fair  opportunity  of  comprehending  or  ap- 
preciating their  character.  "  From  the  prince  to  the  beg- 
gar," says  Captain  Widdrington,  "  possessing  it,  you  do 
every  thing,  and  without  it,  nothing." 

Writers  who  are  in  the  habit  of  denning  the  Spaniards 
with  a  dash  of  the  pen,  forget  or  do  not  know  that  the 
nation  is  made  up  of  provinces,  which,  with  some  general 
similarity  of  characteristics,  are,  in  many  things,  as  utterly 
unlike  as  separate  countries.  They  forget  that  these  provinces 
have  grown  old,  with  laws  and  institutions  often  totally 
dissimilar,  and  under  the  operation  of  physical  and  geograph- 
ical influences,  producing  the  most  contrary  effects  on  char- 
acter and  customs.  What  is  true  of  Catalonia  is  a  libel  on 
Andalusia — what  is  reasonable  in  Castile  or  Estremadura  is 
ridiculous  in  Biscay.  A  man  who  travels,  writes,  or  thinks, 
in  view  of  any  other  or  imaginary  state  of  things  among 
them,  might  as  well  publish  a  supplement  to  Gulliver.  The 
limited  sphere  of  my  own  observation  would  make  it  quite 
ridiculous  for  me,  therefore,  to  set  up  my  judgment  or  the 
results  of  what  I  saw,  as  any  thing  but  very  partial  and 
imperfect.  The  reader  has  had  the  few  facts  of  my  journey : 
he  may  draw  his  own  conclusions,  so  far  as  the  limited  pre- 
mises go.  I  may  commend  him,  however,  if  he  has  a  real 
interest  in  the  matter,  to  the  works  of  Captain  Widdrington, 
so  often  cited.  I  have  nowhere  seen,  in  any  books  of  travel, 
a  more  candid,  honest,  and  impartial  spirit,  coupled  with 
better  judgment,  or  more  liberal  intelligence.  So  far  as  I 
had  opportunities  of  testing,  I  found  him  always  sensible 
and  accurate ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  his  books  contain 
a  fairer  and  a  juster  view  of  Spain  and  Spaniards  than  any 
volumes  extant. 


368  GLIMP8ES  OF  SPAIN. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  case,  heretofore,  there  is  no 
room  for  doubt,  that,  now,  the  face  of  things  in  Spain  is 
changing,  steadily  and  surely,  for  the  better.  This  is  not 
only  obvious,  from  a  comparison  with  what  trust-wdrthy 
travelers  have  written,  but  from  what  is  daily  going  on 
before  one's  eyes.  It  may  be,  that  the  movement  is  a  slow 
one,  compared  with  what  we  see  in  other  countries,  and 
especially  our  own.  It  may  be,  that  there  are  impediments 
not  easy  to  surmount — delays,  protracted  and  vexatious,  de- 
manding more  than  common  energy  and  patience.  But  both 
of  these  are  elements  that  enter  largely  into  Spanish  charac- 
ter ;  and  when  we  think  on  all  the  past,  and  see  what  has 
been  done  in  spite  of  it,  instead  of  fearing  for  the  future,  we 
should  see  it  full  of  hope  and  promise.  For  centuries,  the 
Peninsula  has  been  the  prey  of  despots  or  the  scene  of  strife. 
Eternally  in  conflict,  she  has  had  no  time  to  build  again  what 
every  struggle  has  but  aided  to  pull  down.  Her  treasury 
drained — her  resources  dried  up — her  population  wasted,  and 
her  industry  palsied  by  misgovernment  and  war — she  has  been 
assailed,  from  without  and  within,  by  all  the  engines  of  vio- 
lence and  demoralization.  To  the  evils  of  foreign  hostility, 
she  has  seen  added  the  worse  evil  of  foreign  friendship  ;  arid 
has  found  herself  the  prize,  for  which  foreign  interventions 
and  diplomacy  have  made  her  own  soil  the  theater  of  contest. 
Broken  into  separate  states  by  natural  divisions — mountains 
almost  impassable  furnishing  a  barrier  to  the  progress,  as  well 
of  sound  and  national  sentiment  as  of  equalizing  commerce — 
the  central  government  perpetually  faithless  to  its  duty  of 
providing  for  the  general  weal — what  marvel  that  she  should 
have  found  herself  distracted  in  her  counsels,  impoverished, 
and  oppressed  ?  The  sympathy  of  other  nations  converted 
into  speculation,  and  the  foundations  of  her  own  self-reliance 
broken  and  uprooted — what  wonder  that  she  should  have 
shrunk  within  herself,  in  melancholy,  morbid  torpor  ?  When 
Ferdinand  VII.  died,  there  was  a  momentary  glimpse  of 
sunshine,  soon  to  be  hidden  by  the  smoke  of  civil  war.  That 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  369 

ended,  her  elastic  spirit  still  had  life  enough  for  a  rebound, 
and  from  that  time,  through  chance  and  change,  pronuncia- 
miento  and  intrigue,  sometimes  well  and  sometimes  ill,  in 
spite  of  Salvandy  and  Bulwer,  she  has  been,  always,  moving 
forward. 

When  I  was  in  Spain,  the  royal  quarrel  was  the  theme 
of  all  political  vaticination.  The  king  and  queen  and  Gen- 
eral Serrano  were  in  every  body's  mouth.  Who  was  right ; 
who  wrong  ;  what  was  to  come  of  it,  and  who  was  to  be 
sacrificed  ;  were  matters  puzzling  the  quidnuncs.  The  Pa- 
checo  or  Salamanca  ministry  was  then  in  power,  though,  as 
it  seemed  to  me,  with  but  a  moderate  popularity.  What 
struck  me,  most  of  all,  was  the  strange  unanimity,  with 
which,  in  private,  all  persons  of  intelligence  with  whom  I 
spoke  expressed  their  utter  want  of  confidence  in  all  the 
politicians,  of  all  parties.  The  capital,  all  seemed  to  think, 
was  but  a  store-house  of  corruption  and  intrigue,  and  every 
man  a  huckster  for  himself.  Lord  Brougham,  in  one  of  his 
books,  has  stated,  as  his  grave  conclusion  from  the  history  of 
British  parties,  that  all  their  struggles  have  been  moved  and 
kept  alive,  by  private  interest  and  personal  ambition,  The 
Spanish  people,  not  pausing  to  philosophize,  seemed  to  have 
reached  the  same  conclusion,  by  plain  inference  of  fact.  With 
such  impressions  on  the  public  mind,  strengthening  and  widen- 
ing daily,  sooner  or  later  there  must  come  a  reformation. 
Existing  interests  and  institutions,  old  ingrained  habits  and 
prescriptions,  may  impede  it ;  political  and  physical  divisions 
and  obstructions  may  delay  it ;  but  the  day  must  come,  at 
last,  when  those  who  rule  must  serve  the  public  welfare, 
as  the  sole  condition  upon  which  they  wield  the  public 
power.  An  intelligent  and  high-souled  people,  teeming  with 
resources  and  conscious  of  strength,  can  not  be,  possibly, 
prevented,  long,  from  thoroughly  reforming  evils,  whose  op- 
pressiveness they  feel  and  whose  causes  they  can  not  but 
know. 

The  vices  of  the  present  Spanish  system  are  relics  of  the 
Q* 


370  GLIMPSES   OF   SPAIN. 

past.  The  nobles,  carried  by  their  politic  monarchs  to  Ma- 
drid, in  order  to  destroy  their  power  and  influence  in  the  prov- 
inces, soon  dwindled,  necessarily,  into  mere  court-intriguers. 
The  favor  of  the  throne  becoming,  soon,  sole  arbiter  of  place 
and  greatness,  all  those  who  sought  the  prizes  and  the  prof- 
its of  ambition  gathered  round  it.  A  class  of  "  waiters  upon 
Providence"  was  formed  ;  men,  looking  to  the  throne,  not 
merely  for  its  honors,  but  for  bread.  Intrigue  became  a 
trade  ;  corruption  a  familiar  road  to  fortune  ;  and,  for  cor- 
ruption and  intrigue,  the  youth  and  talent  of  the  nation  de- 
serted the  paths  of  toil  and  honorable  independence.  Place 
— un  empleo — grew  to  be  every  man's  goal,  and  empleo- 
mania,  or  the  mania  for  place,  became,  as  it  still  is  to  a 
degree,  the  national  misfortune  and  disease.  Of  later  days, 
the  military  element  has  been  introduced,  to  make  bad  worse. 
Officers  of  the  army,  stationed  at  Madrid,  comfortably  idle 
and  on  pay,  have  found  back-stairs  intrigues  and  paltry  rev- 
olutions a  surer  and  more  rapid  method  of  promotion  and 
distinction,  than  the  honest,  ordinary  duties  of  their  calling. 
Hence,  nowadays,  so  many  ministers  are  generals ;  hence, 
now,  so  much  depends  upon  the  army  and  its  temper  ;  hence 
the  caprice,  and  suddenness,  and  folly  of  so  many  of  the 
changes,  which  have  made  the  Spanish  government,  of  late, 
a  by- word  and  a  jest.  Hence,  and  from  all  combined,  has 
sprung  the  almost  total  extinction,  among  the  politicians,  of 
even  ordinary  patriotism — selfishness,  venal  and  unblushing, 
standing  naked  in  its  place. 

To  remedy  these  evils,  much  is  to  be  done,  and  yet  the 
way  is  simple.  The  nation  must  govern  itself,  and  not  be 
governed  by  the  capital.  Every  analogy  seems  to  suggest 
a  federal  system,  as  the  only  one  by  which  this  end  can  be 
thoroughly  compassed.  The  very  separation  of  the  Penin- 
sula, by  nature,  into  provinces,  and  the  historical,  deep-rooted 
difference  of  laws  and  customs  among  these,  would  seem  to 
negative  (if  experience  did  not)  the  possibility  of  a  consoli- 
dated government  worthy  of  the  name.  The  very  commu- 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  371 

nity  of  interests,  existing  among  the  various  divisions,  appears, 
upon  the  other  hand,  to  demonstrate  the  necessity  and  pro- 
priety of  a  common  system.  A  federation  is  the  only  form, 
l»y  which  the  independence  and  prosperity  of  the  parts  can 
be  blended  with  the  power  and  efficient  nationality  of  the 
whole.  The  idea  has,  already,  occupied  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  some  of  the  best  and  purest  of  the  Spanish  states- 
men. Now,  that  royalty  has  lost,  and  never  can  re- 
gain the  prestige  of  omnipotence  and  sanctity — now,  that 
the  irrepressible  instincts  of  the  popular  intelligence  have 
begun  to  make  themselves  manifest,  in  imperative  demands 
upon  the  government  to  do  its  part,  not  merely  to  the  letter, 
but  in  substance  and  in  spirit — the  suggestions  of  physical 
nature  and  political  experience  must  begin  to  have  their 
weight.  How  far  the  separate  national  existence  of  Portu- 
gal is  destined  to  thwart  these  plans,  or  whether  the  two 
nations,  combined,  are  to  take  their  place  among  the  liberal 
powers  of  Europe  as  a  mighty  and  prosperous  confederacy, 
are  matters  which  depend  upon  contingencies  too  compli- 
cated and  too  numerous  for  present  calculation.  That  it 
should  be  the  policy  of  France  and  England — instead  of 
squabbling  for  the  pickings  of  the  Spanish  custom-house — to 
aid  and  foster  every  effort  of  the  Peninsula  to  reassume  its 
ancient  rank,  seems  too  obvious  to  require  a  second  thought. 
Nations  were  meant  for  something  more  than  rcarkets,  and 
it  is  a  vulgar  and  peddling  political  economy  which  takes  no 
higher  note  of  them.  The  time  may  come — perhaps  is  not 
far  distant — when  rational  progress  and  liberal  institutions 
may  have  need  of  allies  in  the  west  of  Europe,  and  when  it 
may  be  found  that  even  Spain  is  worth  regarding,  by  the 
proudest,  in  some  other  than  the  "  cotton"  point  of  view. 

Looking  from  the  vantage-ground  of  our  political  position, 
we  are  apt  to  be  persuaded,  here  at  home,  that  we  are  fit 
to  teach  the  world,  having  ourselves  now  nothing  left  to 
learn.  Strange,  nevertheless,  as  it  may  appear  to  some,  there 
are  grave  lessons  in  the  history  of  Spain,  which  point  a  moral 


372  GLIMPSES    OF   SPAIN. 

for  no  nation  half  so  justly  as  for  ours.  I  do  not  now  refer 
to  the  more  common  topics  of  extended  empire  and  possessions 
too  remote,  or  even  to  the  lust  and  search  for  gold  ;  though 
these  and  each  of  them  are  worth  some  thought,  unless  our 
country  bears  a  charmed  life,  and  has  some  Mithridatic  and 
mysterious  exemption  from  the  natural  effects  of  poisons,  social 
and  political.  More  dangerous  than  all  these,  and  more  in- 
sidious, is  the  selfish  principle,  which  makes  the  state  and 
the  emoluments  and  honors  of  its  service  a  scheme  of  prizes, 
to  be  fought  for  and  enjoyed  by  private  men,  with  other  aims 
and  objects  than  the  public  weal.  More  dangerous,  in  repub- 
lics than  monarchies,  must  ever  be  a  class  which  speculates 
and  hangs  on  government ;  which  segregates  itself  from  all 
productive  labor,  and  traffics  in  mere  place.  Empleo-mania 
may  be  found  beyond  the  limits  of  Madrid  ;  and  where  it  once 
has  taken  root,  effectively  and  firmly,  the  purity  and  honesty 
have  gone,  without  which  a  republic  is  a  whitened  sepulcher. 
Things,  seen  far  off,  look  strange  to  us,  which,  seen  more 
near,  are  every  day's  occurrence.  A  change  of  ministry,  in 
Spain,  is  often  less  productive  of  confusion,  than  a  change 
of  cabinets,  and  always  less  so  than  a  change  of  Presidents, 
with  us.  A  pronundamiento  (without  the  soldiers)  is  often 
hardly  above  the  importance  of  a  "  mass  indignation-meeting," 
and  a  new  constitution  is,  frequently,  of  no  more  practical 
innovation,  than  one  of  our  conventional  "  platforms"  of  consti- 
tutional construction.  The  machinery  goes  by  a  different 
name,  but  if  the  same  lack  of  patriotic  sympathy,  the  same 
self-seeking  and  self-making  be,  or  should  become,  the  mov- 
ing principle  with  us,  what  Providence  have  we  a  right  to 
call  on,  to  alter  the  results  ?  A  small  and  scattered  popula- 
tion may  afford  some  temporary  safeguard ;  a  new  and  bound- 
less territory,  teeming  with  riches  unexplored,  may  furnish 
outlets,  for  a  time,  to  restlessness,  ambition,  and  cupidity ; 
but  the  laws  of  the  moral  world  are  as  inexorable  as  those 
which  rule  the  tides,  and  turn  the  wheel  of  the  seasons. 
Nations,  as  well  as  individuals,  must  bend  to  them,  and 


GLIMPSES  OF  SPAIN.  873 

the  evil  day  will  come,  at  last,  if  there  be  causes  for  its 
coming. 

But  lay-preaching  is  no  part  of  the  reader's  contract,  or 
of  mine.  If  I  have  managed  to  correct  some  errors  in  regard 
to  a  nofcle  and  much-injured  country,  I  have  done  quite 
enough,  without  pretending  to  set  up  reforms  at  home.  Let 
me,  then,  commend  the  Spanish  people  to  the  reader.  He 
will  like  them  better,  on  acquaintance.  He  may  travel,  if 
he  will,  among  them,  generally  with  comfort,  always  with 
pleasure.  If  they  rob  or  murder  him  on  the  highways,  poison 
him  in  the  kitchens,  or  burn  him  in  a  Plaza,  as  a  heretic, 
he  will  have  worse  luck,  I  can  assure  him,  than  has  befallen 
any  body,  lately,  out  of  the  pages  of  a  traveler's  story. 


APPENDIX. 


I.  (P.  216.) 

THE  Spanish  epitaph  of  Ferdinand  Columbus  is,  word  for  word,  as 
follows — 

JLqui  yaze  el  m.  magnified  S.  D.  Hernando  Colon,  cl  qual  aplico  y 
gasto  toda  su  vida  y  Hazienda  en  aumento  de  las  letras,  y  juntar  y 
perpetuar  en  esta  ciudad  todos  sus  libros  de  todas  las  ciencias  que  en  sw 
tiempo  Hallo  y  en  reducirlos  a  quatro  libros.  Fallecio  en  esta  ciudad  a 
12  de  Julio  de  1539  de  edad  de  50  anos  9  meses  y  14  dias.  Fue  hijo 
del  valeroso  y  memorable  S.  D.  Christ.  Colon  prime.ro  almirante  que 
descubrio  las  Yndias  y  nuevo  mundo  en  vida  de  los  cat3'  r.  d.  Fernando 
y  D.  Ysabel  de  gloriosa  memoria.  A  11  de  Octubre  de  1492  con  tres 
galcras  y  90  personas,  y  partio  del  puerto  de  Polos  a  descubrirlas  d  3  de 
Agosto  antes  y  bolvio  a  Castilla  con  victoria  a  7  de  Maio  del  ano  sigui- 
ente  y  torno  dcspues  otras  dos  veces,  a  poblar  lo que  descubrio.  Fallecio 
en  Valladolid  a  20  de  Agosto  de  1506  anos. 

Rogad  a  Dios  por  ellos- 

Which  may  be  literally  translated  : — 

"  Here  lies  the  very  magnificent  Lord,  Ferdinand  Columbus,  who 
applied  and  spent  all  his  life  and  treasure  in  the  increase  of  letters,  and 
in  collecting  and  perpetuating  in  this  city  all  his  books  of  all  the 
sciences  which  in  his  time  he  found,  and  in  reducing  them  to  four 
books.  He  died,  in  this  city,  the  12th  day  of  July,  15.39,  aged  50 
years,  9  months  and  14  days.  He  was  son  to  the  valorous  and  mem- 
orable Lord  Christopher  Columbus,  first  admiral,  who  discovered  the 
Indies  and  new  world,  in  the  life  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns,  the  Lord 
Ferdinand  and  Lady  Isabella  of  glorious  memory,  on  the  llth  of  Octo- 
ber 1492,  with  3  galleys  and  90  persons,  and  he  set  forth  from  the 
port  of  Palos,  on  the  3d  of  August  preceding  and  returned  to  Castile 
with  victory,  on  the  7th  of  May  of  the  following  year,  and  went  back 
afterward  two  other  times,  to  people  what  he  had  discovered.  He 
died  in  Valladolid,  on  the  2Ckh  of  August,  in  the  yeac  1506. 
Pray  to  God  for  them." 


APPENDIX.  375 


The  Latin  inscription,  at  present,  is  as  follows. 

"  Aspice  quid  prodest  totum  sudasse  per  orbem 
Atque  orbem  patris  ter  peragrasse  novum, 
Quid  placidi  Boetts  ripam  finxisse  decoram 

t   Divitias  genium  post  habuisse  raeum, 
Ut  tibi  Castallire  serarem  numina  pontis 
Offerrem  que  simul  quas  Tholomeus  opes, 
Si  tenui  saltern  transcurrens  murmure  saxum, 
Nee  patri,  salve,  nee  mibi  die  is,  ave." 

(The  words  italicized,  have,  as  the  reader  will  have  observed,  neither 
prosody  nor  sense.  Zuniga  gives  them  "  Castalii  reserarem,"  which 
must  have  been  what  was  meant.  My  copy,  however,  is  exact,  from 
the  tomb.) 

In  the  Appendix  (No.  3)  to  Mr.  Irving'sLife  of  Columbus,  we  find  the 
following  sketch  of  Fernando's  literary  labors.  "  Don  Fernando  de- 
voted himself  much  to  letters.  According  to  the  inscription  on  his 
tomb  he  composed  a  work  in  four  books  or  volumes,  the  title  to  which 
is  defaced  on  the  monument,  and  the  work,  itself,  is  lost.  This  is 
much  to  be  regretted,  as,  according  to  Zuniga,  the  fragments  of  the 
inscription  specify  it  to  have  contained,  among  a  variety  of  matter,  his- 
torical, moral,  and  geographical  notices  of  the  countries  he  had  visited, 
but  especially  of  the  New  World,  and  of  the  voyages  and  discoveries 
of  his  father." 

The  reader  will  perceive,  by  reference  to  the  epitaph,  that  it  says 
nothing  whatever  of  Fernando's  having  "  composed  a  work  in  four 
books  or  volumes" — but  simply  that  he  spent  his  time  and  means  in 
collecting  works  of  science,  and  "  reducing  them  to  four  books."  The 
epitaph,  given  by  Zuniga,  differs  in  nothing  from  the  one  I  have  trans- 
cribed, except  in  the  insertion  of  the  words  "  segun  estdn  aqui  senala- 
dos,"  after  "  quatro  libros,"  making  it  reaU  thus — "in  reducing  them 
to  four  books,  as  they  are  here  designated."  There  was  no  trace  upon 
the  monument  of  any  of  the  words  so  added,  or  of  the  designation  of 
the  books — indeed,  there  was  no  space  where  such  things  could  have 
been  inserted,  a'nd  I  have  been  unable  to  find  any  statement,  any  where, 
that  the  present  monument  and  inscriptions  are  any  other  than  those 
originally  placed  over  Fernando's  remains.  They  bear,  upon  the 
contrary,  intrinsic  evidence  of  an  antiquity  which  may  well  go  back 
three  hundred  years. 

After  quoting  the  inscriptions  and  translating  the  Latin  portion, 
Zuniga  proceeds  to  speak  of  the  library  which  the  deceased  bequeathed 
to  the  Cathedral. 

"  La  libreria,  famosa  en  numero  y  calidad  puso  el  cabildo  de   la 


376  APPENDIX. 


Santa  Iglesia  en  una  pie  pa  que  antes  hauia  seruido  de  Capilla  Real,  sobre 
las  capillas  de  la  naue  del  Lagarto  en  el  claustro,  adornandola  con 
estantes  de  Caoba  de  linda  traza  y  en  sus  paredes  y  bouedas  de  pinturas 
al  fresco,  al  proposito,  en  que  permanece  despojo  del  tiempo,  mas 
olvidada  y  mcnos  frcquentada  que  la  quiso  su  dueno,  dificil  de  gozar  y 
facil  de  consumirse.  Y  de  los  quatro  libros  originates,  cuyos  titulos  estan 
borrados  en  la  losa  de  D.  Fernando,  solo  he  hallado  yo  en  ella  algunos 
fragmentos,  que  muestran  contenian  variedad  de  materias  Historicas, 
Morales  y  Geograficas  de  las  tierras  que  peregrino  y  de  las  Indias,  des- 
cubrimientos  y  conquistas  de  su  padre,"  &c. — Anales  de  Sevilla,  lib.  xiv. 
p.  477  (Ed.  Mad.  1677,  fol.) — in  the  Library  of  Harvard  University. 

Which  may  be  translated,  thus : — 

"  The  library  famous  for  its  size  and  quality  was  placed  by  the 
Chapter  of  the  Holy  Church,  in  a  portion  of  the  building  which  once 
served  for  the  Royal  Chapel,  above  the  chapels  of  the  aisle  of  the 
Crocodile,  in  the  cloister."  [The  stuffed  remains  of  a  huge  animal  of 
the  crocodile  family,  still  hang  beneath  the  gallery  of  the  Columbian 
Library,  in  front  of  the  entrance  to  the  northern  transept  of  the  Cathe- 
dral. Some  say  that  the  creature  was  taken,  alive,  in  Seville :  others 
that  it  was  sent  to  Alonzo  the  Wise,  by  the  Soldan  of  Egypt,  when 
he  invited  the  Infanta  to  become  a  Sultaness.  It  gives  its  name  to 
the  entrance  before  which  it  is  to  be  seen,  and  which  is  known  always 
as  la  Puerta  del  Lagarto — the  Door  of  the  Crocodile.]  "  It  has  been 
adorned  with  book  cases  of  mahogany,  of  graceful  design,  and  the 
walls  and  ceilings  are  ornamented  with  appropriate  paintings  in  fresco. 
There  it  remains,  the  spoil  of  time,  more  forgotten  and  less  frequented 
than  its  master  wished  it ;  difficult  to  be  enjoyed  and  easy  to  decay. 
And  of  the  four  original  books,  whose  titles  are  obliterated  on  the 
tomb  of  Don  Fernando,  I  have  only  found  in  it,  some  fragments,  which 
show  that  they  contained  a  variety  of  matter,  historical,  moral,  and 
geographical,  relating  to  the  lands  which  he  had  visited,  and  to  the 
Indies,  the  discoveries  and  conquests  of  his  father,"  &c. 

It  was  not,  therefore,  from  "the  fragments  of  the  inscription,"  but 
from  fragments  found  in  the  library,  that  Zuiiiga  derived  his  idea  of 
the  contents  of  the  "  quatro  libros."  Mr.  Irving  has  fallen  into  the 
natural  mistake  of  making  the  words  "  en  ella"  refer  to  the  monument 
— not  to  the  library — and  of  translating  them  "on  it,"  instead  of  "in 
it."  So,  at  all  events,  it  is  with  deference  suggested.  The  differ- 
ence is  by  no  means  unimportant;  for  if  the  contents  of  the  books 
could  have  been  gathered  from  the  inscription,  there  would  have  been 
no  room  for  question,  whereas,  if  they  depend  upon  Zuniga's  researches 
in  the  library,  we  have  a  better  right  to  our  own  investigations  and 
opinions.  The  large  volumes  which  the  librarian  showed  me,  as 


APPENDIX.  377 


related  in  the  text,  answer  in  character  and  number  to  the  description 
on  the  epitaph.  They  contain,  in  fact,  a  reduction  of  all  Fernando's 
collection  within  the  compass  of  four  books.  They  constitute  a  sum- 
mary or  digest  of  the  whole  library,  and  must  have  required  no  small 
expenditure  of  learning,  intellect,  and  labor.  In  a  note  to  the  smaller 
or  mere  index,  Fernando  speaks,  himself,  thus,  of  them :  "  In  inven- 

torio,  per  facultates   seu    materias libri   hie  content!  inveniri 

valeant."  Saying,  on  his  tomb,  that  he  had  "  reduced  them  all  to 
four  books,"  and  in  this  passage  that  they  might  "all  be  found"  in 
the  "  inventory,"  according  to  their  subjects  or  topics — he  may,  with- 
out straining,  be  supposed  to  fix  the  identity  of  the  "inventory"  and 
the  "  qua.tr o  libra*. " 

II.    (P.  219.) 

THE  first  of  the  old  books  referred  to  in  the  text,  is  called  "  Opus- 
cula  Petri  de  Aliaco,  Cardinalis,  et  Joan.  Gerson."  Attached  to  one 
of  the  blank  leaves,  is  a  passage  from  Las  Casas,  said  by  the  librarian 
to  be  in  Mr.  Irving's  handwriting,  which  identifies  the  work  as  one 
belonging  to  the  admiral,  and  of  which  he  made  familiar  use,  filling 
the  margins  with  notes  of  his  reflections  and  things  which  he  had 
read  elsewhere.  The  work  is  without  date,  though  obviously  one  of 
the  earliest  efforts  of  the  press.  Pedro  de  Aliaco,  Archbishop  of 
Cambray,  lived  at  the  close  of  the  fourteenth,  and  beginning  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  and  was,  Las  Casas  mentions,  at  the  Council  of 
Constance,  in  1416.  The  opening  of  the  volume  tells  us  that  he  was 
"  inter  omnes  evi  sui  facile  doctissimus,"  as  Cicero  wrote  of  Varro, 
"and  that  he  suffered  himself  to  be  ignorant  of  nothing,  which  could  be 
comprehended  by  the  human  mind."  The  work  is  divided  into  thirteen 
treatises  or  "  tractaculi,"  by  Aliacus,  and  several  by  Gerson,  relating 
generally  to  cosmography,  geography,  and  astronomy,  with  occasional 
historical,  moral,  and  theological  episodes.  The  blank  leaves  are 
filled  with  tables  of  solar  phenomena,  projections  of  the  sphere,  and 
sundry  mathematical  and  astronomical  figures  and  calculations  drawn 
in  black  and  red  ink.  The  marginal  notes  are  so  full  of  the  abbrevia- 
tions in  which  Columbus  delighted,  that  it  is  quite  a  study,  often,  for 
one  who  is  unfamiliar  with  them  to  find  out  their  meaning. 

The  first  treatise  is  "de  Ymagine  mundi,"  and  it  may  be  interest- 
ing to  translate  a  passage,  from  the  eighth  chapter  "de  Quantitate 
terre  habitabilis."  It  is  to  this  effect : — 

"  In  the  investigation  of  the  quantity  of  habitable  earth,  it  must  be 
understood  that  habitableness  is  to  be  regarded  in  a  double  point  of 
view.  First,  with  respect  to  the  heavens,  and  as  to  how  much  can 
be  inhabited,  on  account  of  the  sun,  and  how  much  can  not  be.  Con- 


378  APPENDIX. 


cerning  this,  however,  enough  has  been  already  said.  The  other 
point  of  view  has  respect  to  the  waters,  and  how  much  they  may 
hinder  habitation.  Concerning  this,  it  is  now  to  be  considered.  There 
are  various  opinions,  among  wise  men,  on  the  subject.  Bartholomseus, 
in  his  book  "de  Dispositione  sphere,"  insists  that  nearly  the  sixth 
part  of  the  earth  is  habitable,  in  respect  of  water,  and  that  all  the 
rest  is  covered  with  water.  And  so  in  Algamestus,  lib.  ii.,  he  says 
that  habitation  is  not  known,  except  in  a  fourth  part  of  the  earth  we 
occupy ;  which  fourth  part  runs  in  length,  from  east  to  west,  and  is 
half  the  equinoctial  line,  its  breadth  being,  from  the  equator  toward 
the  pole,  the  fourth  part  of  a  colure.  But  Aristotle,  at  the  end  of  his 
book  on  the  heavens  and  earth,  insists  that  more  than  the  fourth  part 
is  inhabited,  and  Averroys  confirms  this.  And  Aristotle  says  that  the 
sea  is  inconsiderable,  between  the  extremity  of  Spain  on  the  western 
side,  and  the  beginning  of  India,  on  the  eastern  side.  [Here  is  the 
marginal  annotation — "  Inter  fines  Ispanie  et  principium  Indie,  est 
mare  parvum  et  navigabile  in  paucis  diebus."]  And  he  does  not 
speak  of  Spain,  on  this  side  (citerior),  which  is  now  commonly  called 
Spain,  but  Spain  on  the  other  side  (ulterior),  which  is  now  called 
Africa,  concerning  which,  certain  authors  speak,  as  Pliny,  Drosius, 
and  Ysidorus.  Moreoverr  Seneca  says,  in  the  fifth  book  of  his 
"  Naturalia,"  that  the  sea  is  navigable  in  a  few  days,  if  the  wind  be 
suitable.  And  Pliny  also  says  (in  Naturalibus,  lib.  ii.),  that  men 
have  navigated  from  the  Arabic  Gulf  to  Cadiz  (Gades  Herculis)  in 
no  very  long  time.  [Here  the  note  upon  the  margin,  is,  "  Plinius. 
Navigatum  est  a  sinu  JLrabico  usque  ad  gades  herculis,  non  multum 
magno  tempore."]  Wherefore,  from  these  and  many  other  reasons, 
which  I  shall  touch  more  closely,  when  I  shall  speak  of  the  ocean, 
some  persons  conclude,  apparently,  that  the  sea  is  not  so  large  as  to 
be  able  to  cover  three-fourths  of  the  earth.  This  is  supported  by  the 
authority  of  Esdras,  in  his  fourth  book,  wherein  he  says  that  six  parts 
of  the  earth  are  inhabited,  and  the  seventh  is  covered  with  water 
[Marginal  note — "  Esdre.  Sex  partes  terre  sunt  habitabiles,  et  7a  est 
co-operta  aquis"],  the  authority  of  which  book  the  saints  have  held  in 
reverence,  and  have  confirmed  the  sacred  truths  thereby.  And  so,  it 
seems,  that  although  the  habitable  part  of  the  earth  known  to  Barthol- 
omseus and  his  followers  was  confined  within  the  limits  of  one-fourth, 
a  greater  part  is  nevertheless  habitable.  And  Aristotle,  in  regard  to 
this,  was  able  to  know  more  by  the  aid  of  Alexander,  and  Seneca  by 
the  aid  of  Nero ;  both  of  which  princes  were  very  curious  in  investi- 
gating the  doubtful  things  of  this  world,  as  Pliny  testifies  in  regard  to 
Alexander,  in  his  eighth  book,  and  Solinus  also.  And  Seneca  so  nar- 
rates of  Nero,  in  his  book  de  Naturalibus.  Wherefore  it  appears  more 
proper  to  adopt  that  belief,  than  that  of  Bartholomasus,  or  that  of 
Albategnus,  who  thinks  still  less  of  the  earth  to  be  habitable,  namely, 


APPENDIX.  379 


the  twelfth  part  only.  He  (Albategnus),  however,  is  wanting  in 
proof,  as  might  be  shown,  but  I  pass  on  for  the  sake  of  brevity :  the 
rather  that  this  matter  will  more  fully  appear  in  the  sequel. 

"  From  the  premises,  and  from  what  will  hereafter  be  said,  it  will 
appear,  that  the  habitable  earth  is  not  round,  after  the  manner  of  a 
circle,  as  Aristotle  says,  but  rather  like  unto  the  fourth  part  of  the  sur- 
face of  a  sphere.  Of  this  fourth  part,  two  portions  are  slightly  cut  off 
toward  the  extremities,  that  is  to  say,  the  portions  which  are  not  habit- 
able on  account  of  excessive  heat  or  excessive  cold.  This  can  not  be 
as  conveniently  delineated  upon  a  plane  as  upon  a  spherical  surface." 

In  the  same  essay,  pursuing  the  same  subject,  the  author  speaks 
(fol.  18)  of  "a  great  branch  of  the  sea,  descending  from  the  ocean, 
which  is  between  India  and  lower  Spain  or  Africa."  Upon  this,  the 
marginal  note  is  "  Ambit  brachium  maris  inter  Indiam  et  Ispaniam." 

Further  on,  the  same  essay  speaks  of  India  and  its  mountains,  and 
there  are  two  marginal  notes,  both  of  which  would  seem  to  indicate  a 
more  decided  hankering  after  filthy  lucre,  than  is  generally  attributed 
to  the  philosophical  mind  of  the  Discoverer.  The  first  is  carefully 
prefixed  by  an  index — "  Q^"  Inter  montes  istos,  sivnt  insulce  innumer- 
abiles,  inter  quas  sunt  qu&dam  plena  margaritis  et  lapidibus  pre- 
ciosis." 

The  second  is  of  similar  burden.  "  India,  multas  fruges  habet,  et 
species  aromaticas,  et  lapides  preciosos  plurimos,  et  montes  auri.  Ipsa 
est  tertia  pars  habitabilis." 

In  the  "  Tractatus  Cosmographie"  (f.  80)  the  text  runs  thus : — 
"  According  to  the  philosophers  and  Pliny,  the  Ocean  which  extends 
between  the  extremity  of  further  Spain  or  Africa,  on  the  West,  and 
the  beginning  of  India  on  the  East,  is  of  no  great  breadth.  For  it  has 
been  found,  by  experiment,  that  this  sea  is  navigable  in  a  few  days, 
with  a  prosperous  wind ;  wherefore  that  beginning  of  India  on  the 
East  can  not  be  at  any  great  distance  from  the  end  of  Africa,  under 
the  earth  :  that  is,  under  the  half  of  the  earth  which  is  here  described 
in  the  figure.  Whence  it  follows  that  the  sea  is  not  so  great  as  to  be 
able  to  cover  three-fourths  of  the  earth,  as  some  think."  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  Columbus  felt  the  force  of  the  logic. 

The  marginal  note  is — "  Finis  hyspanie,  et  prinripium  Indie  non 
multum  distant,  hiis  partibus,  et  expertum  est  quod  hoc  mare  est  navi- 
gabile,  in  paucis  diebus,  ventis  convenientibus.  Mare  non  potest  co-operire 
%tas  terre" 

These  extracts  will  suffice  to  give  some  idea  of  the  philosophy  of 
the  day,  and  of  the  impressions  which  it  fixed  upon  the  mind  of  the 
great  Discoverer.  That  the  passages  of  Aliacus  which  I  have  quoted 
sank  deeply  into  his  thoughts,  will  be  seen  by  the  careful  and  almost 


380  APPENDIX. 


literal  reference  to  them  and  the  authorities  by  which  they  are  illus- 
trated, which  he  makes  in  his  letter  to  the  Sovereigns,  written  from 
Hispaniola  in  1498  and  containing  the  history  of  his  third  voyage.  This 
profoundly  interesting  document  may  be  found  in  Navarrete's  Coleccion 
de  Viajes,  vol.  i.,  p.  242  (Madrid,  1825),  and  the  part  I  allude  to,  on 
pp.  260,  261.  The  reader  who  is  curious,  will  find  the  subject  further 
pursued,  in  Humboldt's  Cosmos,  vol.  ii.,  p.  621  (London,  1849),  and 
in  other  dissertations  of  the  same  author  to  which  he  there  refers. 
Neither  the  work  of  Aliacus  nor  the  Book  of  Prophecies  had  been  seen 
by  Mr.  Irving,  until  after  the  publication  of  his  first  edition  of  the 
Life  of  Columbus.  A  notice  of  the  one,  however,  will  be  found  in  a 
note  to  Book  viii.,  Ch.  i.,  and  of  the  other,  in  a  note  to  Book  xiv., 
Ch.  v.,  in  the  subsequent  editions  of  that  work. 

The  Book  of  Prophecies,  or  the  "  Jerusalem,"  as  it  is  sometimes 
called,  is  noticed,  at  large,  by  Navarrete,  in  his  "  Coleccion  de  Viajes, 
&c."  and  many  copious  and  interesting  extracts  from  it  will  be  found 
in  his  second  volume  (p.  260,  Num.  cxl.)  The  greater  part  of  the 
manuscript  is  said  to  be  in  the  handwriting  of  the  Friar  Gaspar 
Gorricio,  who  aided  Columbus  in  the  preparation  of  the  work.  But  a 
small  part  of  the  copy  is  attributed  to  the  actual  handiwork  of  the 
Discoverer  himself.  At  the  head  of  the  inner  margin  of  the  first  page, 
is  the  following  title,  which  is  said  to  be  in  the  handwriting  of  Ferdi- 
nand, his  son  :  — 

"  Profecias  que  junto  el  Jllmirante  Don  Christoval  Colon,  de  la 
recuperation  de  la  santa  ciudad  de  Hierusalem  y  del  descubrimiento  de 
las.  Indias,  dirigidas  a  los  Reies  Catholicos." 

("Prophecies  which  the  Admiral  Christopher  Columbus,  collected, 
concerning  the  recovery  of  the  holy  city  of  Jerusalem  and  the  discovery 
of  the  Indies  :  directed  to  the  Catholic  Kings.") 

The  work  opens  with  a  letter,  from  "  the  very  magnificent  and  most 
prudent  Sr.  D.  Christobal  Colon,  Admiral,  &c.,  to  the  Rev.  Father 
Don  Gaspar  Gorricio,"  bearing  date,  September  13,  1501.  This  letter 
is  prefaced  by  the  pious  jingle  — 


Jesus,  cum  Maria,  sit  nobis  in  via. 

It  then  proceeds  to  state,  that  when  the  writer  arrived  at  Granada 
(whence  it  is  written)  he  had  commenced  collecting  the  authorities 
which  seemed  to  him  to  relate  to  Jerusalem,  in  order  that  he  might 
afterward  review  them  and  put  them  suitably  into  rhyme.  His  occu- 
pations, however,  had  prevented  him  from  prosecuting  the  work  farther, 
and  he  commends  it  to  Don  Gaspar  to  be  finished,  praying  that  the 
Lord  may  enlighten  him  with  "  autoridades  muy  autenticas" 

Don  Gaspar  replies  :  That  he  has  received  the  admiral's  letter  and 


APPENDIX.  381 


book  of  "  prophecies,  touching  the  case  of  Mount  Sion  and  Jerusalem, 
and  the  people  of  the  Islands  and  Universal  nations."  and  has  labored 
upon  the  work  as  a  very  holy  exercise,  "  salutifera,  consolatoria,  admon- 
itoria,  y  provocativa  al  servicio  de  nuestro  Senor  Zh'o.s,"  &c.  Where- 
fore he  adds,  "  by  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  guidance  of 
the  admiral's  labors,  who  has  gathered  the  flower  of  such  numerous 
and  truthful  authorities,  sentences,  sayings,  and  prophecies,  he  (Don 
Gaspar)  has  interposed  and  added  some  remaining  ones,  as  a  man 
may  gather  the  gleanings  of  the  grape,  the  olive,  and  the  wheat- 
harvest."  He  has  not  (he  prudently  adds)  taken  the  trouble  to 
establish  any  "  concord  among  the  sayings  and  matters,  &c.,"  but 
has  merely  added  a  few  rules,  &c. 

The  letter  is  dated  from  "the  holy  house  of  the  Caves,  March  23d, 
1502." 

Then  follows : — 

"  Incipit  liber,  sive  manipulus  de  auctoritatibus,  dictis,  ac  sententiis, 
et  prophetiis  circa  materiam  recuperanda  sanctae  civitatis  et  mantis  Dei^ 
Sion:  ac  inventionis  et  conversionis  insularum  Indice.  et  omnium  gen- 
tium atque  nationum.  Ad  Ferdinandum  et  Helizabeth  Reges  nostros 
Hispanos^  &c. 

After  a  few  preliminary  pages,  comes  a  letter  of  the  admiral  to  the 
king  and  queen,  of  which  the  reader  may  find  interest  in  the  opening 
paragraphs : — 

"  Most  Christian  and  very  high  Princes  : 

"  The  reason  which  I  have  for  the  restitution  of  the  holy  habitation 
to  the  holy  church  militant,  is  the  following : — 

"  Very  high  Sovereigns  : 

"  From  very  early  years  I  entered  upon  the  navigation  of  the  sea, 
and  I  have  continued  it  to  this  day.  That  art  inclines  whoever 
follows  it,  to  wish  to  know  the  secrets  of  this  world.  For  more  than 
forty  years,  such  has  my  custom  been.  Whatever  is  navigable,  down 
to  this  day,  I  have  gone  over.  Intercourse  and  conversation  I  have 
had  with  wise  people,  ecclesiastics  and  laymen,  Latins  and  Greeks, 
Jews  and  Moors,  and  many  others  of  other  sects. 

"  To  this  my  desire  I  have  found  our  Lord  bountiful,  and  I  have  had 
for  it,  from  him,  the  spirit  of  intelligence.  In  seamanship  he  made 
me  abounding  :  of  astrology  he  gave  me  a  sufficiency,  and  likewise 
of  geometry  and  arithmetic  :  also  ability  in  my  mind  and  hands  to 
draw  the  sphere,  and  on  it,  cities,  rivers  and  mountains,  islands  and 
ports,  all  in  their  proper  places. 

"  During  this  time,  I  have  seen  and  studied  to  see,  all  writings,  cos- 


382  APPENDIX. 


raography,  histories,  chronicles,  and  philosophy,  and  other  arts ;  so  that 
our  Lord  opened  to  me,  with  palpable  hand  (con  mano  palpable)  the 
understanding  that  it  was  practicable  (hacedero — do-able)  to  navigate 
from  here  to  the  Indies,  and  opened  my  will  to  perform  it ;  and  with 
this  fire  I  came  to  your  Highnesses.  All  those,  who  knew  of  my 
enterprise,  refused  it  with  laughter  and  scorn ;  all  the  sciences,  of 
which  I  have  spoken  above,  and  their  authorities,  availed  me  nothing ; 
in  your  Highnesses  only,  was  faith  and  constancy.  Who  doubts  but 
that  this  light  was  from  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  well  as  from  me  ?"  &c. 
The  same  Holy  Spirit,  he  adds,  now  urges  him  to  the  rescue  of  the  holy 
habitation  in  Jerusalem,  and  he  enters  upon  the  Scriptures  for  authority 
and  reasons.  Various  and  long  citations  follow,  from  sacred  writers 
and  learned  Jews,  &c.,  which,  though  curious,  would  require  too  much 
space  here. 

Occasional  specimens  of  his  versification  appear,  which  are  not 
particularly  poetical,  as  an  example  will  show  : 

REJOICINGS  ON  THE  BIRTH  or  ST.  JOHN,  THE  BAPTIST. 

"  Gozos  den  mas  regotijo, 
Este  dia  que  otros  dias, 
Que  hoy  nascio  el  muy  santo  hijo 
De  Ysabel  y  Zacharias. 
Gozose  el  verbo  divyno 
Quando  su  primo  saltava 
En  el  vientre  viejo  digno 
Que  su  madre  visitava : 
Ytu,  Virgen  que  estavas 
JLl  parto  de  tal  sobrino, 
Gozo  sin  tiento  ny  tino 
Rescibe  con  Zacharias." 

Upon  fol.  59,  in  the  hand-writing  of  Columbus,  is  inserted  the  oft- 
repeated  passage  from  the  Medea ;  the  orthography  and  translation 
of  which,  by  the  admiral,  are  rather  singular ;  thus  : 

"  Seneca  in  7°  tragetide 
Medee,  in  choro,  audax  nimium. 

Venient  annis 

Secula  seris,  quibus  Oxeanus 
Vincula  rerum  laxet,  et  ingens 
Pateat  telus,  tiphisque  nobos 
Detegat  orbes,  nee  sit  terris 
Ultima  tille — 

"  Vendran  lot  tardos  anos  del  mundo,  ciertos  tienipos,  en  lot  quales  el 


APPENDIX.  383 


mar  oceano  aflojara  los  atamientos  de  las  cosas  y  se  abrira  wna  grande 
tierra,  y  un  nuebo  marinero  como  aquel  que  fue  guia  de  Jason,  que  tubo 
nombre  tiphi,  descubrira  nuebo  munrfo,  y  entonces  no  sera  la  ysla  tille 
la  postrera  de  las  tierras." 

Literally  done  into  English,  this  may  read  as  follows  : — 
"  There  will  come  (in)  the  slow  years  of  the  world,  certain  times, 
in  which  the  ocean-sea  will  loose  the  fastenings  of  things,  and  a  great 
earth  will  open  itself,  and  a  new  mariner,  like  him  who  was  guide  of 
Jason  and  had  for  name  Tiphi,  will  discover  a  new  world,  and  then 
the  Island  Tille  will  not  be  the  last  of  the  lands." 

Then  follow  notices  of  two  eclipses  of  the  moon  which  he  had  seen 
in  the  West  Indies  in  1494  and  1504 — the  latter  of  which  dates 
proves  that  the  entry  was  made,  subsequently  to  the  rest  of  the  manu- 
script and  to  his  return  from  his  fourth  and  last  voyage. 

III.  (P.  226.) 

Prohibitio,  ne  in  Ecclesiis  Civitatis  et  Dicecesis  Hispalensis  sumatur 
Tabacum. 

URBANUS  PAPA  OCTAVUS. 
Ad  futuram  rei  memoriam. 

Cum  ecclesiae  divino  cultui  dicatae,  domus  sint  orationis,  easque 
propterea  omnis  sanctitudo  deceat,  merito  Nos,  quibus  cunctarum  per 
orbem  universum  Ecclesiarum  cura  a  Deo  commissa  est,  advigilare 
convenit,  ut  ab  eisdem  Ecclesiis  quicumque  actus  profani  et  indecentes 
procul  arceantur :  itaque  cum  sicuti  pro  parte  dilectorum  filiorum, 
Decani  et  Capituli  Ecclesiae  Metropolitans  Hispalensis,  nobis  nuper 
expositum  fuit,  pravus  in  illis  partibus  sumendi,  ore  vel  naribus,  tabac- 
um  vulgo  nuncupatum,  usus  adeo  invaluerit  ut  utriusque  sexus 
personae  ac  etiam  sacerdotes  et  clerici,  tarn  seculares  quam  regulares, 
clericalis  honestitatis  immemores,  illud  passim  in  Civitatis  et  Dicecesis 
Hispalensis  Ecclesiis,  ac  quod  referre  pudet  etiam  sacrosanctum  missae 
sacrificium  celebrando  sumere,  linteaque  sacra  foedis  quae  tabacum 
hujusmodi  projicit  excrementis,  conspurcare,  Ecclesiasque  praedictas 
tetro  odore  inficere,  magno  cum  proborum  scandalo  rerumque 
sacrarum  irreverentia  non  reformident- 

Hinc  est,  quod  nos ne  de  caetero  in  quibusvis  Civitatis  et 

Difficesis  praedictorum  Ecclesiis  earumque  atriis  et  ambitu  tabacum, 
sive  solidum,  vel  in  frusta  concisum,  aut  in  pulverem  redactum,  ore, 
vel  naribus  aut  fumo  per  tubulos,  et  alias  quolibet,  sumere  audeant  vel 
prsesumant,  sub  excommunicationis  latae  sententiae,  eo  ipso,  absque 
aliqua  declaratione  per  contrafacientes,  incurrendo  pcena,  auctoritate 
apostolica,  tenore  praesentium  interdicimus  et  prohibemus." 


384  APPENDIX. 


IV.  (P.  328.) 

"  Haviendo  Muley  Boaudeli,  ultimo  rey  moro  de  Granada,  entregado 
las  Haves  de  esta  dha.  ciudad,  el  viernes  2  de  Enero  de  1492,  a  las  tres 
de  la  tarde,  en  la  puerta  de  la  Alhambra,  a  nuestros  catolicos  monarcas 
Don  Fernando  V.  de  dragon  y  Dona  Ysabel  de  Castilla,  despues  de  777 
anos  que  esta  ciudad  sufria  el  yugo  Mahometano,  desde  la  perdida  de 
Espana  acaecida  Domingo  11  de  Noviembre  de  714,  salio  dho.  catolico 
rey  a  despedir  al  espresado  Boaudeli,  hasta  este  sitio,  antes  mezquita 
de  Moros  y  entonces  erigida  en  Hermita  de  San  Sebastian,  donde  dieron 
graci(a)s  a  Dios  nuestro  Senor  el  glorioso  conquistador  y  su  ejercito, 
entonando  la  real  capilla  el  te  deum,  y  tremolando  en  la  torre  de  la  vela 
el  estandarte  de  la  Fee,  en  ouya  memoria  se  toca  a  dha.  ora  la  plegaria, 
y  se  gana  indulgencia  plenaria,  rezando  tres  padres  nuestros  y  tres  ave- 


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